Friends and Something Else
by the.frenglish.girl
Summary: AU/ AH. Three rules to avoid a traumatic hangover. Rule number one: don't go on nights out with Katherine Gilbert. Rule number two: don't get drunk. Rule number three: don't sleep with your best friend. When the morning after, Caroline's best friend tells her he is in love with her, things go from bad to worse.
1. Chapter 1

She opened one eye and regretted it instantly. A beam of light filtering through the curtains punched her eyeball and the drumbeat accelerated. Her skull was going to explode, or implode – or both.

Remember never to go for drinks with Katherine again.

Never ever.

Never ever drink again.

"Ugh!" Her mouth tasted like french cheese and a hammer replaced the drum and began to work on her skull. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath but the pain only seemed to intensify.

_Never go out with Katherine again._

Although her girl nights with her friend were a lot of fun, they simply were _too much_ fun. But she had needed it. Needed to vent to her friend, needed to forget – if only for one night – what an utter failure her life was. And she had.

But now, the morning after, she had to face reality. The fact that her job was making her miserable and that she was currently working for a woman she despised, doing a job she didn't like. And that she had been dumped – _again_ – by her on and off boyfriend of three years.

Seriously, her life sucked.

She needed to get out of bed and take some aspirin. She tried to get up, only to realize that she could not. An arm was holding her firmly in place, preventing her from going anywhere.

She groaned. Well, clearly, it seemed that she had had _way too much_ fun last night. Her mind was still fuzzy but she was sure she hadn't brought someone home with her. She was not that Caroline anymore.

And yet, she must have. Otherwise, she wouldn't be held prisoner by the arm of a total stranger in her bed..._Oh!_

Naked. She was naked.

Which could only mean one thing. She had slept with said stranger.

_Damn you Katherine Gilbert! And damn you vodka!_

She looked down at the arm holding her. Her eyes trailed slowly, going up to look at the body attached to it. She frowned when she noticed some details. Familiar details. Her heart began to drum painfully in her chest. The outline of a tattoo.

_God, no. Anyone but him._

The man shifted in his sleep, revealing more of his naked body. A tiny scar on a shoulder that she had punched a million times. A chest which served as a pillow on movie nights. Strong arms that comforted her whenever she was feeling down.

Only his face remained hidden. But she knew every detail of him. They had grown up together, known each other forever.

Been best friends forever.

She had slept with her best friend.

The only constant good thing in her life, she had to screw it up too. She was going to be sick. How could she do something so stupid? And how could he let her?

His arm tightened around her, making it harder for her to leave the bed without him waking up. Should she wake him up? They could speak about it, blame it on the alcohol and move on. They were both adults. It did not have to ruin their friendship. It was a simple mistake. A bump on the road. Everybody made mistakes. She was sure it happened a lot. Friends slept together all the time...

_Yeah, right! _

She was going to lose her best friend! Over a meaningless one night stand!

A wave of nausea crashed through her and she leapt out of her bed and ran straight to the bathroom. There, on her knees, she threw up into the toilet bowl.

_Classy._

''Caroline?'' She heard his raspy voice. ''Are you okay?'' he asked, concern in his voice.

''Yeah.'' She heard a ruffle of sheets, a groan. ''Wait!'' she shrieked. ''Don't move!'' There was no way in hell that she was facing him now, naked and nauseous... and smelly. _Ugh! _''Give me five minutes. I'm going to take a shower.''

''Caroline, we need to talk.'' She heard a sigh. ''I'll be downstairs.'' She heard the door close behind him and then nothing.

_We need to talk._ A feeling of dread washed over her. _We need to talk. _

A sob escaped her. She didn't want to talk. She wanted things to be normal.

She opened the bathroom cabinet and took two tablets of aspirin. She brushed her teeth and went under the spray of water. It soothed her achy limbs and the hammer was no longer working on her skull. Feeling definitely better, she took her bottle of shampoo and washed her hair and then lathered her body with soap. Erased the remnants of the night. She stayed well over five minutes in the safety of her tiny bathroom.

Finally, feeling human again, she towelled herself dry, put on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. She looked at herself in the mirror, her wet hair framed her face and her eyes were a bit red. ''Time to face the music, Caroline,'' she said to herself.

She went downstairs, the smell of coffee and the clattering sound of cups indicated that he was in the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, feigning a confidence she was missing at that moment, she made her entrance.

He was only wearing pyjama pants but at least he was not naked. Now_ that_ would have been even more awkward.

''Hey.'' She smiled. He turned toward her and took her in before opening his mouth. But nothing came out. He sighed. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her. His hair was a mess and he looked rumpled – positively adorable.

_Her boy._ She felt a familiar rush of tenderness as she looked at him.

''Caroline, we need to talk.''

''I know, Nik,'' she said softly, taking the cup from his hands, feeling the feathery kiss of his fingers against hers.

_I know._

The words flew from her mouth before she could stop them. ''Okay. Look, Nik. No need to freak out. I was drunk. You must have been pretty much wasted for letting that happen, ha, ha,'' she laughed nervously. ''Anyway, we were drunk. We … did... what we did. Bad things happen when you're drunk. Very bad, wrong, naked things... But it's okay because we're both adults, and... and you've seen me naked before! Granted, we were kids... But, it's not a big of a deal, right? Like I said, no big deal... '' _Breathe,__ Caroline. Breathe. _

_And shut your mouth!_

He did not say anything, waiting patiently for her to finish. He only smiled – looking somewhat amused, somewhat fascinated by her rambling. Unable to stand the silence, she continued:

''Let's forget it ever happened. It doesn't have to mean anything. It didn't mean anything.'' She laughed again. '' Right?'' She paused, closing her eyes.

_Right._

She waited for him to say something, sipping her coffee.

''I don't regret it,'' he simply said. Her eyes shot open.

''What?'' He could not mean it like that.

''I don't regret it, Caroline,'' he repeated. He looked serene, not at all torn like she was. ''Do you regret it?'' He was looking at her strangely.

''Yes! No! Yes!'' She exclaimed. ''You're my best friend. Friends don't sleep with each other!'' What was he trying to tell her?

''Maybe we're more than friends...'' He said softly, looking unsure.

''Nik, you don't mean that. You make it sound like we're...'' She could not bring herself to say the words.

He was the best thing that had ever happened to her. He was the only good thing.

''Like we love each other? I do love you,'' he said firmly.

''I know that. And I love you. We've been best friends since we were six! But...''

''No, what I mean is that I love you, Caroline. I'm in love with you.'' She stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what he had just said. She understood the words he was saying, understood what they meant put together but she just could not understand what he was trying to say. Certainly, he was not saying that he was in love with her. This was crazy. He was Nik and she would not lose him. Over anything. He was just confused. Sex did that to guys, even the intelligent ones like Nik. It messed with their brain.

''No,'' she said, with finality and determination.

''No?'' He asked, eyebrows raised.

''No. You're confused. I'm your friend and we had sex. So you think that you love me but you're just confused.''

''Caroline. Sweetheart. I know what I feel and it doesn't have anything to do with last night. I'm in love...'' He took a step toward her, only to see her take a step back.

''Stop saying that!'' How could it happen? One day, everything was fine and the next – bam! He was in love with her? Feelings did not happen overnight! ''This is crazy, Nik!''

_This was insane!_

She was going to have a meltdown. She could feel it. Her heart was doing this painful dance in her ribcage. Her hands began to shake and a wave of coffee crashed against the rim of the cup and dribbled over her fingers.

''Here, let me,'' he said, taking the cup from her shaky hands. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; never before she had been as aware of him as she was at that precise moment. His heat, his scent. When she opened her eyes, she was not at all surprised to see how close to her he was standing; she took an other step back, only to bump against the kitchen counter. He sighed again, looking at her with his beautiful eyes as if she were the most precious thing in his world. Looking as if he were in love. With her.

She felt sick.

''Why? Why do you think it's crazy? Tell me,'' he whispered, his warm breath tickling her left cheek, the back of his fingers against her skin, lightly caressing her left arm. Up and down.

She remained silent for a few seconds, which – clearly – was proof enough of her distress, because Caroline Forbes was _never_ at a loss for words. But it was freaking impossible to speak when he was looking at her like that and touching her like that. His lean body was all but pressed against hers and his face was dangerously close to hers.

''Because,'' she said lamely.

_Damn you brain! _

''Because what?'' he chuckled. Now both his hands were traveling up and down her arms, and she felt a delicious shiver run through her. How cliché!

This was bad.

This was really – _really_ – bad.

''Give me one good reason.'' _Seriously? He did not see the problem?_

''Well, first, there's Matt,'' she lied.

''Caroline, you two broke up yesterday,'' he said, visibly unimpressed.

''We're like brothers and sisters,'' she continued as if he had not just called her out on her lie.

''Clearly, we're not, as proven by yesterday's activities,'' he smirked at her.

_The nerve of him! _

''Give me one reason. Just one.'' He rested his forehead against hers and she could not think clearly anymore. He seemed so sure of himself – of them – that when his lips descended on hers, she let him. He cupped her face in his hands as his lips moved against hers. He tasted of mint and coffee and safety. Her arms circled his waist, drawing herself closer to him, and could not help moaning against his lips as the kiss grew more passionate. It would be so easy to get used to this – to this side of Nik – to his caresses and kisses. She could lose herself in him.

But still, she had a million reasons as to why this was a bad idea. Their friendship would not survive it. She was not good at relationships. He was a complicated man. She would break his heart – or, he would break hers. Eventually he would realize that she was not what he wanted. And then what? They would never recover from this and she'd lose him.

And she was not ready for that. She would never be ready to lose him – she could _never_ lose him. And in the end, it was that easy. To tear herself away from him.

''I don't feel the same way,'' she said finally, breathing heavily. He was looking at her intensely and she noticed that, for some reason, his eyes were a deeper shade of blue.

''Liar,'' he replied back, and again, he was invading her space – trapping her as his hands took hold of her hips.

_Was she?_

''Tell me you don't feel it too. I dare you,'' he said nuzzling her neck, dropping a single kiss on her skin. ''How could Matt ever let you go?'' he said against her throat. ''Can't he see how precious you are?''

She was tingling in his arms, and his words were filling her with both dread and excitement.

''Let me show you,'' again he dropped a kiss on her throat.

''Why?'' It was all she managed to say.

''Because you make me smile. Because I don't doubt myself with you. And because, lately, I've come to realize that you're home.''

_Home._ _His safety net. _

They had always been there for each other. He had been there when she had lost her mother in a stupid accident. And she had been there when he had learned that he was not his father's son.

He was simply mistaking what they had for lust (or love, depending on how you called it) and when you thought about it, it would have been funny (really!) if it was not threatening the only thing she could trust in this life.

Feeling a wave of despair crash through her – because nothing was no longer making sense –, she tried to push him away.

''Please, Nik. I don't – I don't want...'' Distress colored her voice and he immediately took a step back, an expression of mild horror crossing his face when he realized her anguish. She was gripping the counter tightly, trying to stop shaking.

He looked at her with regret and something akin to shame.

''You don't feel it,'' was all he said, as he stood rigidly, away from her. There was something final in the way he said it and she felt cold. And sad. Sad that she had to put that distance between them for them to stay together.

_Always and forever, right?_

''I'm sorry. I thought... Clearly I was mistaken. I'm sorry,'' he repeated, turning away from her. Already, he was withdrawing from her – she could see it.

She had rejected him and he was hurt. And she could not stand it – never had, never would. She needed to soothe him and make it better. In a flash, she was behind him and was hugging him tightly, like she had done a million times before.

''Please, Nik. It's okay. It doesn't change anything,'' she tried to reassure him, her cheek against his back. But he just stood there, still.

''Caroline,'' he sighed. ''It changes everything.''

And she could not help but release him at his words. And so he went.

Away from her.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes:

To everyone who has read, commented, favorited and followed: thank you so very much! I'll try to update regularly, once a week I hope. But it will be harder once I'll be working (in September). I have seven chapters planned.

Please forgive any mistake, this story is unbeta'd.

I'd love to read your thoughts. If you can, please leave a comment. This is highly motivating and I simply love to interact with you.

Good reading!

* * *

He was not answering her calls.

She understood that he needed space. Things were kind of awkward, she got it. But this was killing her. Not being able to speak to him – not being able to fix things.

Stefan had been kind enough to call her and let her know that Nik was staying at his place for a few days. He had tried to reassure her, told her that Nik was okay. But, apart from that, she had not heard from her best friend since the... _thing_.

And now, more than two days later, she was starting to get angry and restless. And this was why she was going through the kitchen cabinets, perched on a stool, sorting every bit of food in alphabetical order. On a Monday night. Anything to keep herself busy, anything to keep her from going to Stefan's and do something that she would regret – like punching someone in the face.

_This peanut butter was clearly past its expiration date. Gross._

She was going to give him a piece of her mind when he came back. She was going to tell him that he was acting like a petulant child. Why did he have to act like a damn martyr? Acting as though she had broken his heart.

Her fingers tightened around the jar of peanut butter, mimicking the clenching of her heart at the thought that, maybe, she had indeed broken his heart. But this was silly, Nik could not harbor these kind of feelings for her. She would have noticed. And they were not like that, they were a team – just not the romantic type. And Nik did not fall in love. He flirted, he dated but he had never given his heart to someone...

Until two days ago.

_Maybe._

She just was not sure anymore.

But if he was in love with her, then it meant that she had... She could not bear the thought. She sighed, feeling defeated. She had hurt him, she was sure of that, at least. She knew him, knew he thought she had rejected him. And she felt awful. _Terrible._

She was a terrible person!

''When did I become the bad guy?'' she wondered out loud, blowing a strand of hair as she spoke.

The walls did not seem to have an answer for her.

''Screw this,'' she exclaimed, tossing the peanut butter in the kitchen trash can. She was going to Stefan's. She had given him space. He did not want to see her? Well too bad, because she needed to see him and fix this mess. And if she had to tie him down to make him listen to her, well she would do it! She did not know how but she would!

_Damn right she would! _

She went to her bedroom and dialed Klaus' phone number once more while picking up a pair of jeans. This time, her call went straight to voicemail. Feeling more determined than ever, she quickly changed clothes and grabbed her keys, only to stop in her tracks when she heard the sound of the front door lock turning.

The door opened, revealing a tired-looking Klaus. He was holding his briefcase and a duffel bag, and a plastic bag with something that looked like Chinese takeout. An indescribable look flickered across his face when he saw her in the hallway – but he did not say anything. And she just stood there, blinking – rooted to the spot – not knowing how to breathe anymore.

''You're back,'' she said, finally. And now, she realized just how much she had missed him.

And it scared her. _A lot._

''Hey, Caroline,'' he said simply, coming inside. She tilted her head and looked at him as he dropped his bag and briefcase on the floor. He looked impeccable in his work clothes, and calm – as calm as she was feeling nervous.

He stayed silent as he went in the kitchen, walking past her. He set the takeout boxes on the counter and took two plates from the cabinet, and proceeded to open the boxes. In freaking silence.

_He was giving her the silent treatment. _

_Seriously?_

''Seriously?''

He looked up at her and frowned. ''What?'' he asked, looking perplexed.

''So, you're just going to ignore me?'' He was just going to pretend that she was not there. That he did not care. That _this _was nothing.

Maybe this _was _nothing. Maybe he had simply realized how stupid the whole thing was.

''Caroline,'' he sighed. ''I just came back from work. Can we please not do this right now? I'm tired. And hungry,'' he gestured toward the food. He took two forks from the side drawer and began to fill the plates, not looking at her.

''Well, I'm tired too,'' she said, before she could even help herself. ''I tried to call you,'' she continued, somewhat accusingly.

It was not what she wanted to say. No. She wanted to tell him that she was sorry. Tell him that she had never wanted to hurt him. But, looking at him, being all aloof and silent, resentment started to bubble up inside her. She resented the fact that he could be so calm about everything. When she had _these feelings._ Feelings that she did not know what to make of.

''I thought you were not coming back.''

''I believe I live here,'' was his reply. She snorted. ''Obviously. That's why I haven't seen you in almost three days!'' _Smooth Caroline. _

''Caroline.'' The way he said her name told her it was a warning.

''Can we talk?'' she asked, tentatively.

''There's nothing to talk about.'' Okay, so she was dealing with emotionally closed-off Nik. She was not that surprised, really. Usually, when he was like this, she would just hound him until he flipped. But she knew she should not test his patience tonight.

Still. She had to try.

''Nik, I'm sorry.'' She approached him, slowly, carefully.

''Stop.''

''I never meant to hurt you.''

''I said: '_Stop'_.'' Hands flat on the counter, lips pursed, he looked like he was about to have one of his temper tantrums – and she realized that what she had mistaken for cool composure was, in fact, cold anger.

He was angry. _At her._ Three days of pent-up emotions. But she would not let that stop her.

''Tell me how I can make it better. I'll – '' She took another tentative step toward but froze when he turned toward her. His face, an icy mask.

''Enough!'' he bellowed. He was _finally_ looking at her – granted, it was with narrowed eyes – but he _was looking at her._ Deep blue orbs fixed on her, full of simmering anger, and something else that she was not used to seeing in his eyes. Something that she did not have a name for. For the briefest of moments, it made her heart flutter – took her breath away –, and she could not look at him anymore.

She turned away from him. Maybe some things were better left unsaid after all.

''You're right. There's nothing to talk about,'' she replied. ''I'm tired. I'm going to bed,'' she said above her shoulder. ''Good night.''

''Caroline,'' she heard him behind her. He sighed. ''Good night.''

~o~

She huffed. _Good night, indeed._ She could not sleep. It was three in the freaking morning and she just could not sleep. She was supposed to get up for work in less than four hours...

She turned again and put her pink sleeping eye mask back on. She stayed like that for a few seconds before she turned on her back again.

The night was silent except for the sound of the wind blowing outside – the sounds of the windy city muffled in the distance. She usually took comfort in the peace and quiet of the chilly nights, but the confrontation with Nik had left her feeling anxious.

She took off her sleeping eye mask – again. Sleep was simply evading her, and she had come to the conclusion that she would not get any sleep tonight. She threw back the covers with a groan and got out of bed. Might as well do something to take her mind off the disaster that was her life.

_That was what sleeping with your best friend did to you. _

_Well._ To be honest, her dissatisfaction with her life did not have much to do with the... _thing_ with Nik. She had not been happy for some time now.

First, there was her relationship with Matt, which was not much of a relationship, really. They had spent more time broken up than together. And there was also the fact that she did not like who she was with him, did not like how he made her feel – insecure and inadequate.

And, yet, she loved him – sincerely. Matt was a good man, but he simply was not the _right_ man. She had finally accepted that – that they did not work together –, and she had come to think that, maybe, she did not love him like she was supposed to. And, how could you be in love with someone you did not miss?

And then – then, there was her job. She had always thought that planning events was her thing. And that working for Carol Lockwood would be the career boost she needed. But now, two years later, her career was going nowhere; and she was thinking that, perhaps, it was not what she wanted in life after all. And what did she want? She simply did not know.

And now, there was Nik.

_Niklaus. Klaus._ He had always been Nik to her – ever since he pushed her off the swing (the little brute!) when they were six.

But they were not kids anymore.

She grabbed her robe and opened the door of her bedroom. She listened intently, and when she did not hear any sound, she went downstairs.

There, in the living room, she turned the TV on. She made herself comfortable on the couch as random images filled the screen, and she did not have to think anymore.

~o~

He woke up well before his alarm clock went off. It was five thirty and he had barely slept. Sleep had become his only reprieve, if only for a few hours. Ever since that night, every single conscious moment was filled with longing – longing to breathe her, taste her. Feel her.

And it was _torture_.

He needed her and she did not want him.

_The story of his life really, when you thought about it._

He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remains of his savorless dreams, and went to take a shower. There, arms outstretched against the wall, hands closed into fists, he let the water clear his mind, wash away his frustration and tension. For months, he had tried to shake her off his heart. But she had remained there, unmoving.

Taunting him. Tempting him.

He had never wanted these feelings but they clawed at his heart. Puzzled and troubled him. Haunted him. Day and night.

But then, _that night_ happened. And, when she kissed him, when she murmured his name – over and over – against his neck as he moved above her, he thought that maybe he was not alone in this. That_ maybe –_

He was a fool, he realized now. She did not want him.

Not like he _wanted_ her.

Caroline. Full of contradictions – and bright –, bright like the sun. Out of reach, and burning. She lit a fire in him every time he looked at her. And he could not help but let her. Consume him.

He chuckled under the spray. _He was a fool. _

_A damn fool._

He finished getting ready for the day – his thoughts full of her – and went downstairs. The TV was on and he wondered if Caroline was already up. She was not an early riser, although she was one of these annoyingly cheerful people. And then, he saw her.

Sleeping on the couch. A mass of blond curls hiding her face.

Her pink robe was opened and her nightgown had ridden up a little, giving him a perfect view of her milky skin. Soft and sweet. He took the remote and turned the TV off. She was snoring a little, he noticed with a smile.

He leaned toward her to brush a strand of hair, and lightly caressed her cheek with his thumb. _He could not help himself. _

''It's time for you to wake up, Caroline.'' She stirred a little. ''Sweetheart, wake up,'' he said again.

''Five more minutes,'' she groaned against the cushion.

''Fine, I'll be in the kitchen making coffee.''

The coffee was brewing when she appeared. ''Hey,'' she said, voice raspy and eyes heavy with sleep. She was still in her robe but she had put her hair up in a messy bun.

''Rough night?'' he asked. She did not say anything but she gave him a pointed look, and he felt a little guilty, knowing fully well that he was the cause of her misery.

_His neurotic friend. _

She poured herself a cup of coffee and stayed silent – it was so unlike her that it made him uneasy. She was supposed to be light and happy.

''I'm sorry,'' he said before he could stop himself. He hated having to apologize. To anyone. But he hated seeing the shadows in her eyes even more.

She held her coffee with both hands, leaning against the counter. ''Are we okay?'' she inquired, biting her lip. There was something vulnerable in her big baby blue eyes.

''What?''

''Are we okay?'' she asked again – and it tugged at his heart, the way she seemed so hesitant around him.

He took a step toward her and smiled at her reassuringly, ignoring the fire that was beginning to grow in the pit of his stomach.

''Well, of course, sweetheart.'' But he could see that she did not believe him, and so, against his better judgment, he took her in his arms. ''We're okay,'' he said firmly, enjoying the feel of her against him. Her arms encircled him, held him tightly – and it healed his battered heart a little bit.

''I'm glad,'' she replied against his chest. ''Are you okay?'' she asked after a few seconds.

_Was he okay?_

_No._ But he had to be – _for them _to be okay.

So, he lied. ''Yes. I'm okay.''

The smile he got in return was so blinding that he understood that – in the end – _she_ was all that mattered.

~o~

''We have a problem,'' Marcel greeted him when he arrived in their office, at Richard Lockwood's campaign headquarters – an hour later. From his friend's somber look, he understood that _this_ was serious.

''Tell me.''

''This is bad, Klaus. Very bad. _This_ could potentially destroy any chances Richard has of winning the election.'' He would never let that happen. They had worked too hard for that to happen.

''How?'' was all he asked. He sat on his desk and waited for Marcel to explain.

''A girl in New Orleans is threatening to go to the press and speak about her and Richard.''

''Regarding?'' He hoped to God that this was not going where he thought this was going.

''She says she's pregnant.'' _The last thing they needed now was a babygate._

He could feel a headache coming on.

''Have you talked to Richard?'' Marcel nodded. He was not telling him everything. His stomach dropped. Things were about to get worse. He gestured his friend to go on.

''She's a teenager.'' _You've got to be kidding! _

This was indeed _very_ bad.

''So Richard did not deny it?'' Marcel shook his head. _Great._

''What can you tell me about her? What have you gathered?''

''She's a foster child. She's seventeen but Richard swears she looked at least twenty-three. Her name is Hayley. He doesn't know her last name. He says it did not last very long. She has been asking money – _a lot of money_.''

_Interesting. _

Well, there was a good chance she could be bought off. But he needed to speak to Richard first and make sure he knew everything.

''Alright, let me talk to Richard.'' Marcel nodded and turned to leave.

''You might have to make a trip to New Orleans, Marcel,'' he stopped him.

''Sure.'' Something told him that Marcel would not mind in the least.

Alright – he had a lot to do. And he welcomed the distraction.

_Anything_ to stop thinking about her.

His phone buzzed, signaling he had received a new text message. It came from Caroline. It seemed that there was no escaping her. He pressed 'OK'.

'''I'm making dinner tonight!''' the message said. He groaned. She was the only person he knew who could actually burn water.

Well, he would have to drop by _Antonio's_ on his way home.

_Home._


	3. Chapter 3

Author's notes:

I want to thank you all – knowing that you read and appreciate my story means a lot. A special big thank you to the guest reviewers for taking the time to leave a comment and share their thoughts.

Also, I'm sorry I did not update sooner. I was not satisfied with the first version of this chapter, and I had to rewrite it two or three times.

Anyway here it is, I hope it won't disappoint you. This is unbeta'd.

I will leave a note at the end regarding questions I've had regarding Hayley and the cover picture I used (Cassie).

Happy reading!

* * *

_Warm, heavy rain poured from the navy blue sky; it hit the branches of the trees, shook the leaves of the bush plants and filled the bell flowers with cool clear water. The grass of the garden welcomed the wet reprieve but the outside world arched under the deep low rumble that resonated in the sky. Light and darkness mingled creating a ballet of terrible shadowy creatures, and the blonde little girl jumped and gripped her friend's hand tighter. So tight that he yelped in pain. _

_''Ouch. Caroline! That hurt,'' the boy mumbled, peevishly. Standing in the middle of his room, inside their imaginary castle, they were safe. _

_''Sorry.'' She loosened her grip on his hand and moved closer to him under the tent. ''Did you hear that? It sounded really close,'' she said in a hushed voice. _

_''Caroline. There's no need to be afraid.'' He patted her hand reassuringly. ''You're safe with me.'' _

_''I know,'' she continued in the same hushed voice. Hard rain clattered against the window panes of the room and the strong wind shook the glass. Caroline let out a whimper. ''Did you hear that?'' she asked again, hiding herself under the blanket she had carried with her under the tent. She knew that scary, threatening monsters were hiding in the shadows, waiting for them. Kol had told her._

_''What?'' He turned on the flashlight. ''It's only the wind.''_

_''It sounded like howling. And... And Kol says the gardens are haunted –'' _

_''You're so gullible, Caroline. Kol is a liar,'' he said contemptuously. ''He just likes the attention. He such a pain in the arse.'' She giggled. ''What?'' he inquired with a frown._

_''You said 'arse'.'' He shook his head disapprovingly, even though he was the one who had said a bad word, and she continued to snicker, until the sound of thunder made her jump again. ''Ow!'' Klaus exclaimed when she threw herself at him, both of them collapsing in a tangle of arms and legs.''Caroline!''_

_''Sorry,'' she said above him, and he only grunted. _

_She took her weight off him and he was able to breathe better. ''You're safe with me, you know,'' he told her again, a little while later._

_''I know, Nik.'' She smiled at him and took his hand. ''Thank you.'' He only nodded solemnly. _

_He was only nine – a child – but he felt like safety to her._

~o~

He opened the door and breathed a sigh of relief, passing his hand through his wet hair; he was drenched to the bone, and cold, but he was finally home. The drive back had seemed never-ending but now he longed for a hot shower and warm clothes, and a good night of sleep. But first, he had to make sure that she was warm and happy in the safety of her bed.

For as long as he could remember, Caroline had always been afraid of thunder, and something about her being scared and unhappy troubled him deeply, and left him feeling weak. And he hated that.

He walked to her room and quietly opened the door; he poked his head in, and frowned when he saw that her bed was empty. She was not home, and it was unlike her to be out by that weather. He just hoped that she was alright and that whomever she was with would take good care of her. He closed the door and walked to his bedroom. There, he began to undress, tucking at his shirt as he yawned tiredly – and stopped suddenly.

A faint buzzing sound was coming from behind him and, for a second, he wondered if his weary brain was not messing with him. He turned and slowly walked toward the source of the strange noise. He stopped at the edge of his bed and stood there, dumbly, looking at the sleeping blonde in it.

_Now her scent would linger on his sheets too. _

He sighed. He was not going to wake her up; he did not have the heart to do so and he was too tired to even go through the whole process. And she looked so sweet and perfect. She looked like she belonged there.

She _belonged_ there. With him.

Maybe one day. But until then –

He disappeared in his bathroom to take a quick shower. He then took a T-shirt and pajama pants, trying not to make a sound that would disturb her, and went in the guest room. There, he let the tranquil clattering sound of the rain lull him to sleep.

~o~

She woke up in the middle of the night to the dull sound of the falling rain, feeling slightly disoriented. She was not in her room but there was something oddly comforting about the place.

She sat up a little and ran her fingers through her hair. The clattering sound was quite insistent and she turned her head toward the window, from which dim, grey light was coming through. She remembered the angry rumbling sound of thunder, the streaks of light in the sky, like scars in the darkness. And she had been scared, and alone. And, at that moment, she had wanted Nik. Only needed him.

She was in his room. _Of course she was._

She fell back against the pillows and pulled the covers over her, and closed her eyes. She lay still, in the comfort of his scent, and let her mind wander. She wondered if he was home, hoped that he was home; she was not sure anymore with his long working hours. He worked too much and she worried about him.

She felt even more guilty for banishing him from his own bed like that. But there was a time when he would have been beside her. She remembered a time where they would lay side by side, sometimes holding each other in their sleep. Innocent, uncomplicated.

But things were different now. And the fact that he was not beside her only confirmed her suspicion.

He was avoiding her.

She had thought that things were okay. He had told her that _they_ were okay. But now, she wondered if it had not been a way to soothe her, give her peace.

She was blonde, not blind. She had noticed the subtle changes in his demeanour as the weeks went by. Nothing too significant at first but, slowly, little by little, things had changed.

Nik's gaze never lingered on her for too long now, never more than what was necessary or adequate. He had never been one to show his affections in an overt manner. But his quiet presence had never failed to comfort her. But now, they would speak and he would be busy doing something else, and, sometimes, she would wonder if he was even listening to her. It was not that he was dismissive, it was just that he was less available.

Less present.

Maybe it was all in her head. Maybe he was just stressed because of work. _Maybe._

It was just that she felt alone. S_he was alone_.

She was alone most of the time now, as he spent more time at work; late nights spent on some teenage drama – he would not give her more details. And when he would come home, she would be asleep.

It had been gradual; one or two nights a week at first, and then, before she knew it, lonely time at the dinner table had become a common occurrence. And so, she would spent _days_ without seeing him. And she missed him. Terribly.

_Agonizingly._

But it was more than that. Worse than that. Something was missing. Something nameless. Something she longed to recapture but feared was lost forever. And she was left wondering if things would ever be the same again.

Her eyes welled up with tears and she had to stifle the sob that was threatening to escape her lips. A few rebel tears that she could not stop fell down on the pillow.

_It was all her fault._

How stupid. _How foolish._

She had traded almost two decades of the most beautiful friendship for a mindless night of sex. A night that she did not even remember. _The irony._

She hoped it had been worth it.

But then again, she was not alone in this and he shared the blame too. How could they think that they could get away with this?

Now he thought he loved her.

_Oh, Caroline. _

Could she really deny the sincerity of his words, his gaze, and his touch? Could she go on pretending that she was only bothered by the fact that he was hiding from her, when in fact it felt like _she_ was hiding from him? And could she deny that she felt it too, the connection that went past friendship? That felt more and more like –

But she did not want to ponder about what that meant. Because she knew – _she just knew_ – that if she went there, she would lose a lot more than her heart.

She brushed her tears away and debated whether or not leaving the safety and comfort of his bed. Finally, she pulled back the covers and her bare feet hit the carpeted floor.

_Was he home?_

She went downstairs but was only greeted by an empty space and she felt cold there. She decided to go back to her room, it would be dawn soon. Only, she found herself in front of the other room. She stood there for a few seconds, hand on the doorknob and forehead pressed on the panel door. She thought of him on the other side and felt it again. The torturing feeling of longing. She began to turn the doorknob and stopped.

_What was she doing? _

She let out a sigh and dropped her hand. She had to give it time. Yes, give it time.

_Give it time, Caroline._

~o~

When she came down a few hours later, fresh from the shower, she found him on the phone walking around the kitchen, dressed for work; and her lips curved into a smile.

He had made coffee too, she noted appreciatively. She took two mugs and reached for the bread. She listened to his conversation distractedly as she put two slices of bread in the toaster.

''This girl is delusional. The child is not his, there is no way he's going to pay for child support. Well, let her try. I would like to see that.'' She took two glasses and went to the fridge to get the orange juice.

He barked something, and she smiled again. He was pissed. _Nothing new._ She set everything on the table and waited patiently for him to finish, but he was not looking at her. Had not even acknowledged her presence.

_Hello!_

But then again he had a lot of things on his mind, and she respected that he was so invested in his work. So she did not let that bother her. She understood.

_Really, she did!_

''What is her opinion? Are you sure?'' He stopped next to her and his shoulder brushed against hers. He moved again, facing her, and she noticed the small lines around his eyes. He was tired and it was kind of her fault. This was probably why she could not resist running her hand trough his messy hair, like she had done a million times before. Only this time, he did not let her, only grabbed her wrist. ''Stop,'' he mouthed, with a frown. ''No. You tell her that this is out of question,'' he said tensely. ''I simply don't care.'' She huffed and snatched her hand back. Her good mood was fading very quickly.

_Moody, mean, egoistical, rude..._

''Yes,'' he nodded. ''I'll call you later. Alright.'' He disconnected the call and looked at her. ''Good morning, Caroline. Did you sleep well?'' he asked her, smirking and tilting his head.

And just like that, the painful weight she had woken up to lifted off her chest, and she wondered how she could ever doubt him. Doubt their bond.

''Like a baby. Thank you for asking,'' she answered, handing him a steaming mug. She looked at him as he drank his coffee, eyes glued to some article in the morning paper. Her eyes travelled on his face, beginning with his eyes, moving on to his nose, his stubbly cheeks, lingering on his lips, going back to his eyes. Saw how worn out he looked. Felt tenderness tinged with guilt. Possessiveness. _Want._ She had to close her eyes for a second at the sudden flutter of a thousand invisible wings.

_And then – an endless fall._

''Caroline?'' he said questioningly, and she opened her eyes.

''I'm sorry,'' she said, behind her mug of coffee. ''I didn't think I would fall asleep like that. Next time, wake me up.'' He did not say anything, he just kept looking at her intently. It was the first time in weeks and she suddenly felt exposed to his gaze. Only it did not bother her, it made her feel alive.

Alive and strong. And fearless.

His eyes turned soft, and the fiery need gave way to a soothing caress. ''You're not a child anymore, Caroline,'' he said. It was not what she had expected him to say and her heart constricted painfully at what his words implied. But he was right, and she nodded. ''I know. I'm sorry. I thought you wouldn't mind,'' she replied.

He never had before.

''It's alright,'' he said absentmindedly, eyes still fixed on her. She wished she could spend more time under his gaze – she had missed it for so long –, but the beeping sound coming from her phone let her know that she was needed elsewhere. She checked her watch. ''I have to go.''

She quickly poured her unfinished coffee in the sink and grabbed her purse on the counter. ''I'm seeing my dad tonight. We could go somewhere after. Have dinner maybe,'' she suggested, hopeful. She fished for her keys inside her purse but did not find them.

''I'm afraid I can't,'' he said, putting away what was left of their breakfast. ''I've got something planned.'' He then followed her in the living room, laptop in hand, and sat at the table.

''Oh. OK. Say 'hi' to Stefan for me.'' She looked on the coffee table for her keys, only saw piles of papers.

''I won't be seeing Stefan,'' he replied.

''Oh. So this is work related,'' she said, looking under the couch cushions. Then went back to the coffee table to check under it.

_Bingo! _

She leaned to grab them and huffed. _Damn pants!_ Finally, her hand closed around her keys. _Yes!_

''You make it sound like I don't have friends.'' She raised her head, blonde hair falling over her face like a curtain, and looked at him. ''Despite what you believe, I do have a social life,'' he said.

The truth _was_ he did not have friends. Apart from her and Stefan, and maybe Marcel. But he had connections. And one-night stands. _That,_ he had. But she was not going to go there.

_Seriously, no._

''Why? You have a date?'' she teased, putting her hair behind her ears.

''Something like that,'' he simply said, without looking up from his laptop, his face a picture of pure concentration. _Wait – What? _

''Oh.''

_Oh. _She swallowed thickly because_ – oh. _

''_Oh?_ Is that so hard to believe?'' he said with raised eyebrows.

''No! Of course not,'' she said hurriedly. ''Of course not,'' she repeated, clearing her throat.

She tried to sound nonchalant. ''So, you've met someone?''

''No,'' he said, engrossed by whatever he was doing.

''Oh.'' This was unexpected and surprising and –

_overwhelming._

''Now, I've known you to be more eloquent, Caroline.'' He looked at her with a questioning look.

''Do I know her?'' A painful crushing weight lodged between her throat and her stomach and left her gasping for air.

''You know her quite well.'' _She did? _''I'm having dinner with Bekah. She's visiting Stefan. She called me yesterday.''

Bekah. Rebekah.

_His sister._

''Oh.''

''Are you okay, Caroline?'' he asked, sounding concerned. ''Is something troubling you?''

''No, I'm okay. It's just... I couldn't find my keys. I'm... I'm going to be late,'' she said without looking at him. She was too afraid of what he would see in her eyes.

She closed the door behind her and began to walk in the wet, cold morning. She hated those mornings, hated their dullness. But as she walked, she thought. Thought about the feeling of comfort and peace, and contentment that had fallen upon her when he told her he was going to see Rebekah. Something that had felt like – _relief. _And it had made her realize something. Acknowledge something. Because, in all honesty, you can only fool yourself for so long. Hide for so long.

She wanted Nik to be hers.

No – he _was _hers.

She closed her eyes for a brief second and took a deep breath. She opened them, finally. _Yes._

_I feel it._

_I feel it, too._

* * *

Special note:

Some have expressed concern regarding Hayley. I don't want to taint this story, I want it to be sweet and angsty. So rest assured that there will be no Hayley/ Klaus, or Hayley/ Klaus/ Caroline – because, ew!

But it was never my intention to make her the bad guy either (even though I absolutely abhor this character). Her only use (because, really, she's useless as a character) is to make Klaus rethink his career path, and some choices he made.

She won't interact with him and there's very little chance that she'll even appear in the story.

Cassie, I've found the picture of Candice using Google Images but I can't seem to find it. Maybe I could email it to you?


	4. Chapter 4

Author's notes:

I've come to the conclusion that I simply can't make quick updates. So, I'm going to stop promising you that I'll update quickly. Ha! Thank you for sticking with me! I swear each chapter is more difficult to write than the last. I hope this one won't disappoint. This is unbeta'd.

As always, thank you for reading, commenting. Thank you for being there really.

I love this community, love the wonderful writers and readers that make Klaroline live on. So a big shout out to each and every single one of you.

This story is going to be a bit longer than what I had anticipated originally. Blame the characters!

This chapter features a flashback that I hope you'll like. Hmm...

Have a good read!

* * *

She was holding four grocery bags and she just knew that she was going to drop something before she could even make it to the door.

She could feel it. One of the bag was sliding, sliding –

''No. No. No.'' She hurried, walking awkwardly, but before she could ring the door-bell, the bag fell with a thump, followed by a crinkling noise, and one of the apples rolled on the floor, and ended its course in the stairway.

She dropped the three unscathed bags and rang the bell, and waited for her father to open the door.

She surveyed the content of the bags. _Ha! the eggs were intact! _

_Not bad, Forbes. Not bad at all. _

She had managed to bring, single-handedly, four bag of groceries without a hitch – if you did not count the departed apple. She was quite proud of herself, really.

Her dad did not seem to be home yet. She checked her watch. It was almost eight. She could wait for him – maybe even fix him something to eat.

_Or maybe not._

She thought back to the last time she had tried to cook dinner. It had ended up in flames._ In flames! _

And, she was not even kidding, sadly. Luckily, Nik had brought dinner with him – even though she had told him that _she was_ cooking.

_Man of little faith._

She took the spare key she kept in her purse and opened the door. She took a look around, to see if everything was in order, and then proceeded to put away the groceries. Ever since his heart attack, a year before, Caroline had been watching her father closely. She had just finished to put everything when her father arrived. ''Hey, Dad!''

''Hey, Care Bear,'' he said, hugging her. ''How's my lovely daughter?'' he asked when he released her.

''I'm good, Dad.'' She smiled at him and looked at him carefully. He was thinner now and the lines of his face were more prominent. He was her only family. And she had almost lost him.

_Almost._

To see him in his hospital bed, so fragile, had shaken her; she had thought she was going to lose him. Had pictured herself alone. But Nik had been there. _Her rock. _

But it was in the past now and she did not want to think about it. These bad memories only reminded her of an other time.

When she had lost _her_.

''And how's your boy?'' her father inquired, distracting her from her sad thoughts.

''Nik's fine. He's been working a lot lately, I haven't seen him much.'' She put her hand over her stomach to calm the winged creatures. She had felt them the whole day, they soared every time she thought of him.

_Nik. Her boy. _Who raised waves of emotions and feelings that submerged her, scared her, and left her hopeful at the same time.

''So, any plans for tonight?'' she asked distractedly.

''I'm meeting a few friends,'' he said simply. ''You know the bookstore _Once in a Blue Book_?'' When she nodded, he continued. ''Well, there's a lecture given by a young author. You could join us if you'd like.''

''Can't. Last minute plans with Bonnie. But maybe we could do something next week-end?'' she suggested.

''I would love that, kiddo,'' he said with a beautiful smile. And she smiled back.

~o~

''I slept with Klaus,'' she told Bonnie without preamble, when they sat at their table. They were having a late dinner in a trendy bistro, in Lincoln Park.

From the way Bonnie's mouth hanged open at her little announcement, she guessed that she had surprised her friend.

_Yep. Clearly she had not expected that._

When her friend recovered from her shock, she asked her one question, the question she asked herself every single day. ''How did that happen?''

Well, she still did not know how _that_ happened, but she knew, more or less, what led them to _that_.

''I was feeling down, went out with Katherine, drank too much vodka and the next thing I knew I was in my bed, naked, and very much _not_ alone.'' She winced at the memory. She could not even look Bonnie in the eyes without feeling ashamed. Things had not changed. She was still the same girl – the same pathetic, needy girl who would do anything to get attention apparently. Only it was not like that.

Not with Nik.

When she looked at Bonnie, expecting disappointment and disapproval, she only saw understanding in her kind warm eyes. And the painful weight lifted off her chest. ''Was it a one-time thing?'' her friend asked her softly.

''Yes. Yes, of course.'' She played with her napkin distractedly. Folding and unfolding the white cloth.

''Do you want it to be a one-time thing?'' Bonnie asked her, putting a gentle hand on both of hers.

''Yes.'' Maybe. _No._ But she did not want to make it worse. This would annihilate any chance of ever going back to the way they were. Uncomplicated, easy. Safe. Thinking of ever losing this terrorized her and left her feeling exposed.

But if she gave in, if she let him love her, and if she let herself love him back, would it be that bad? She did not know what to think anymore.

''I don't know,'' she said finally, honestly. She looked at Bonnie and let herself say it out loud. ''I don't know anymore, Bonnie.'' And once she let go, she could not stop. ''It's always been us against the world. We've always had this connection, you know? We've always been there for each other. And he might be my favorite person in the world. And... And I don't want to lose him. Ever. But, then that happens and he says he loves me –''

''Wait, he said he loved you?'' Caroline nodded. ''And do you feel something for Klaus, other than friendship that is?''

''Yes.'' It was that simple.

''Did you talk about it?'' Bonnie inquired.

''Yes, and I made a big mess. He told me he loved me. And what did I do? I called him crazy!'' She really, really wanted to slap herself. Why did she have to speak first and think later?

_Stupid. So stupid._

Bonnie gave a little wince, and nodded.

''You need to be honest with Klaus. Tell him how you feel, _what_ you feel.''

''He's avoiding me.'' Again, her eyes welled up with tears, only she let them fall freely. She did not want to hide anymore. Pretend that everything was fine, that she just needed to give it time. ''I'm losing him, Bonnie,'' she said in a pitiful voice.

''Care, you're not going to lose him,'' her friend said soothingly. ''He thinks his feelings are one-sided, he's hurt. And chances are, he's probably afraid he's going to lose you, too.'' She gave her hand a squeeze. ''Just talk to him.''

Caroline nodded. She hoped Bonnie was right. She really did.

''But what if we don't work out? What if it messes everything up?'' she asked Bonnie – as if her friend held all the answers.

''Oh, Caroline,'' her friend said with a smile. ''You and Klaus? You're going to be epic.''

~o~

When he arrived, his sister was patiently waiting for him.

He took a moment to look at her before he made his way to her. His baby sister. Who was always there to defend him and take his side no matter what, when it was his job to protect her. He smiled. She looked beautiful in a simple green dress, her blonde hair styled in a low bun. She looked all grown up.

She was sitting straight in her seat, and she was fidgeting nervously with her ring finger. He frowned.

_What?_

''Nik!'' Her face broke into a smile when she saw him. It was nice to see he could elicit such happiness from someone.

''Bekah. Dear sister. It has been too long.'' He hugged her. _It had been too long. _But she was studying in NYU and he was a busy man in Chicago. But then she would come to visit during the holidays, mostly to see Stefan, and he would get to see his blonde little sister.

''I've got news,'' she said excitedly. She showed him her hand where a delicate ring was adorning her finger. _The_ ring finger. He looked at it for a moment and looked at Rebekah, a question on his lips.

''Stefan asked me to marry him and I said 'yes'!'' She could not contain herself, and the look on her face was one of pure, unadulterated happiness.

He was speechless. Engaged? His sister? But she was too young. And too delicate, so easily breakable.

He did not say anything for a few seconds and her smile faltered. ''Aren't you happy for me?'' she asked, timid and hopeful.

She had been seeing Stefan for a little over a year, but he had never taken their relationship seriously. She gave her heart too easily, loved too easily.

But Stefan Salvatore was a good man. And a friend. And he made her happy. That was all that mattered.

''I'm happy for you.'' He smiled. ''Congratulations, Bekah.''

She smiled in contentment. How she reminded of Caroline at that moment! Precious innocence. Unsuspected strength and unfaltering loyalty.

The two women of his life.

Leaving his side.

~o~

She found him on the floor, sipping a glass of his most expensive bourbon. In the dark. ''Nik?'' She turned the lights on. ''What are you doing alone in the dark?''

She looked at the glass in his hand and came to sit next to him. ''Are you okay?''

''I'm drinking to Bekah's engagement,'' he said, raising his now empty glass.

It took her a moment to process what he was telling her. ''That's wonderful!'' She hugged him awkwardly. When he did not move or say anything, she made him look at her with a gentle pull of her hand on his chin. ''It doesn't make you happy?'' she asked quietly.

Rebekah had asked the same question. _Did it make him happy? _

Yes.

But it also filled him with an inexplicable sense of loss. And envy.

''I'm just still a bit surprised. It seems rather sudden.'' She simply nodded.

Everything had happened so fast. Only a year and half ago, Rebekah had left London to study in New York City. She had spent the summer with him and Caroline before she went to NYU. She had met Stefan at that time, and had taken an immediate liking to him. The poor chap, who was still nursing a broken heart, had been completely oblivious.

''By the way, you're in charge of her engagement party. It's in two weeks and Rebekah expects it to be nothing short of perfect. She'll call you tomorrow to work on the details.''

''What?'' she shrieked. ''You can't be serious!'' she exclaimed shrilly.

''Don't worry, this will be a very intimate affair.''

Bekah had said that she wanted to have a small party, with only their close friends. He knew it was mostly for his sake. She knew that their mother's betrayal was still raw.

He had been unwanted as soon as he had become a reality. Unlike his siblings, he had been the result of a sordid affair. Not the fruit of affection, or a pledge of love.

_Love._ It had always been an abstract notion for him. Something he had craved for as a child, but rarely got.

He took the bottle and poured himself an other glass. He shook his head and took a sip.

_To love and misery. _

He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. Look at where love had gotten him. He was practically living in his office, living off takeout, going crazy over his unrequited feelings.

Things would be so much more simple if only –

If only he did not feel. And did not care. But he was weak that way.

''What are you thinking about?'' she asked sleepily. ''You're all broody all of a sudden,'' she yawned.

''Nothing. I'm just tired,'' he lied.

They fell into a comfortable silence, Caroline on his side. Maybe it was because of the alcohol, or maybe it was because he was just too tired, but he let himself enjoy the feel of her against him. The weight of her head on his shoulder, the softness of her hair against his jaw, the feel of her breast against his arm.

Running away was tiring.

_Exhausting._

And at some point, you just had to lay down your arms and surrender.

But was he ready? Was he ready to abandon all hope of ever being with her?

''I think someone needs to go to bed,'' he murmured, eyes closing. She only nodded in agreement against his neck.

''You're right. _You_ need to go to bed,'' she said getting up from the floor. He chuckled. ''Come on, Nik.'' She held out a hand. He looked at her hand, and at her face. She was looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

Ah. _Bossy Caroline._

He let her help him to his feet. ''Let's get you to bed... Hum...'' She looked all flustered all of a sudden, he did not know why –

_Ah._

_That_.

He loved that it still had an effect on her and that, because of it, her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. He loved how she worried her lips until they took a berry color. And he loved even more that he was the reason for it. So he did not move, just savored the moment.

''Nik?'' she said questioningly. But he did not say anything. He just pulled her closer to him and buried his fingers in her hair, breathed her scent. ''Nik,'' she repeated, and he left the sweet spot of her neck to take a look at her face, sure that he would see disapproval in her eyes. But it was something else. Something that warmed him and left him nostalgic at the same time.

She was amused.

''You're _so_ drunk.''

He wanted to argue but something stopped him. He missed that. Their easy banter. ''Yes.'' She giggled and he relished the sound. ''Come on.'' She gave his middle a squeeze and they began to walk toward the stairs. It was only when they arrived in front of his room that she let go of him. ''Alright. Do you think you can manage?'' When he nodded, feeling so much like a small boy, she smiled at him and gave him a tight hug, and wished him good night.

When she released him, there was something different about her. He just felt it. Or maybe he was imagining things in his inebriated state. But her eyes seemed more tender, and she was not smiling anymore. She seemed lost in her own little world, when he just wanted to be lost _in her_. Like he was now, playing with a lock of golden hair.

''Caroline?'' She shook her head, seemingly coming back to her senses. This look, it was reminiscent of –

_No. _

He had to stop.

''It's been a long day. Good night, Niklaus.'' She offered him an other smile and went in her room.

Leaving him a little bit puzzled.

And a little bit hungry for her.

~o~

_He took a swig of his bottle and contemplated smashing it against the wall to alleviate some of the raw anger that was burning his insides. He was angry at the world._

_No. He was angry at his mother._

_How could she? She was supposed to love him unconditionally. She was the only person who was supposed to love him. No matter what. He took an other swig to get rid of the bitter taste of her betrayal. _

_Even after all these years, he could not get past the fact that, in her eyes, he was the biggest mistake of her life. And now this. He had to hear from his sister that their mother was getting remarried. Rebekah had tried to minimize the whole incident but all he could think about was how their mother was trying to cut him out of her life – their lives. Like the dead branch of a tree._

_He sighed. There was no point in dwelling on it. It was what it was._

_That was how his life –_

_He frowned when he heard noises at the front door, as if someone was trying to get in. Caroline was out but she had keys. And he was not expecting anyone. He listened carefully and heard the distinct sound of tapping and scratching and the doorknob being twisted forcefully. The neighborhood was safe but you never knew. _

_Evil had many faces after all. _

_His anger flared at the disturbance. Whoever was on the other side was not being very discreet and was looking for trouble. And maybe he was looking for trouble too. He put the nearly empty bottle on the coffee table and went to the front door. He took the baseball bat that was next to the door and swung the door open, ready to strike._

_A mass of blonde hair and limbs stumbled inside and fell on the floor, at his feet. There, on her hands and knees, Caroline greeted him. 'Hey, Nik.'' She looked up at him from the floor, trying to put her hair off her face with one hand, while the other clutched her shoes._

_Undoubtedly, she was drunk. _

_He helped her to her feet. How did that happen? ''Caroline?'' _

_''Yep! That's me!'' she answered with a giggle. And then hugged him. ''And you. You're Mike. Mik. Nik. My favorite best friend in the whole wide world,'' she said against his shirt. _

_Alright. She was really drunk._

_''How did you get home?'' he asked, worried that she might have come home by herself. It was not that he did not trust Katherine but – _

_No, he simply did not trust her. _

_''Taxi,'' she replied, her voice muffled by his shirt. The sudden bout of affection made him a tad uncomfortable. And she did not seem to want to let go._

_''Caroline.'' He gently took her hands, and tried to make her loosen her grip on him. But she only held him tighter. ''Caroline,'' he repeated. ''Let go. You need to change and go to bed.'' Considering her state, he could only guess that she had drunk a copious amount of alcohol. _

_It was so unlike her. ''What happened?'' he asked tentatively._

_''Matt and I broke up.'' _

_Ah._

_''I'm sure it's only temporary,'' he told her. He was not sure what else he could say really. They always found their way to each other. And it was beginning to annoy him to no end. She was worth more than Matt Donovan. _

_She was worth so much more. But what could he possibly say? That he wanted her? That he –_

_No. There was no point._

_''No. We're done. He doesn't understand,'' she said, and he frowned._

_''Doesn't understand what?'' he asked softly, as he let his chin rest on top of her head._

_''How much you mean to me,'' she answered quietly. She raised her head and looked at him with serious eyes. Gone was giggly Caroline. ''I will never let you go,'' she said, clutching at his shirt. ''I don't know how to live without you,'' she finished, and he did not understand the sudden change in mood, and how it had become about him._

_''I'm not giving up on you, Caroline,'' he reassured her. _

_''I know,'' she said, and he noticed that their lips were only a kiss away. _

_She bridged the gap and brushed her lips against his. ''You're my boy,'' she whispered against his mouth. She was drunk and she did not know what she was doing, or saying. _

_He gently pushed her away. ''You're drunk, Caroline.'' _

_''You too,'' she argued, pressing her lips against his once more, with more force this time. ''I can taste it.'' She tugged at his shirt and began to unbutton it. _

_''Caroline stop. You're not in your right mind.'' _

_But she did not. Why? What had he done to be tortured like this? _

_''You're drunk,'' he repeated, taking her hands in his. _

_''So what?'' she asked him with a smile, and he shook his head. _

_''So you don't know what you're doing. But I promise you that I won't hold it over your head,'' he said with a gentle smile. _

_She stopped and looked at him with genuine eyes. ''Maybe I'm drunk just enough to...'' her voice trailed off._

_To what? _

_She tiptoed and linked her arms around his neck and smiled. ''I want you Mikaelson,'' she said very simply. And it was the strangest thing._

_To hear those words coming from her mouth. _

_''Don't you want me?'' she asked with big baby blue eyes. The feel of her body pressed against him, her scent and her fingers in his hair – everything – it was driving him mad with want._

_Of course, he wanted her. She had no idea how much he wanted her. He wanted her with him always. Wanted her by his side forever._

_''Caroline –,'' he began but her lips stopped him from saying more. ''Sweetheart,'' he groaned. It would be a sin to deny her but he could not possibly do what she asked of him. Even though every fiber of his being wanted it. _

_''Let's get you to bed,'' he said. _

_''Yes!'' she agreed and, again, he shook his head with a smile. ''Come on, Caroline.'' He took her in his arms; she was light, a feather, and she took advantage of the fact that his arms were full of her to press light kisses on his neck. He groaned against her hair and he went up the stairs, careful not to drop her or do something stupid like kissing her back. _

_Finally, he pushed her bedroom's door open with his foot and carefully put her on her bed. ''Alright,'' he said, brushing a few strands of hair off her face. ''Try to sleep.'' When he made an attempt to leave, she took him by the collar of his shirt. ''Nik,'' she said with a look that made him want to take her in his arms and never let her go. Never before had she looked at him like that. ''Please.'' And she captured his lips in a tender kiss._

_Please._

_She was asking so sweetly that he could not say no. _

_That he did not want to say no. _

_But he had to. He gently broke the kiss and got up from her bed. ''Sleep,'' he said once more, before he left her room and closed the door behind him. _

_He let out a breath. What had just happened?_

_This was maddening. To know that she was behind that door and that she wanted him. But he could not – _

_Not like that._

_He was caught off-guard when the door opened. He turned to look at her. She was no longer wearing her dress. She stood there, beautiful. Breathtaking. And she was no longer out of reach._

_''I'm cold,'' she said simply._

_Screw this._

_He took her face in his hands. ''Caroline. Do you want this?'' He had to ask. When she only nodded, he asked again. ''Do you want this? Tell me.'' _

_''Yes. I want this.'' He brushed his nose against hers and kissed her hungrily._

_She took him by the hand and led him to her bed. He let her unbutton his shirt, caress his chest, kiss his skin. His shirt fell on the floor, followed by his jeans. _

_Her bra._

_His boxers._

_Her panties._

_They lay down facing each other. He caressed her arms, her hands, brushed her mouth with his fingertips. He was discovering her and she let him. She was a wonder and slowly, silently, he explored her. With the back of his hand, he caressed the valley between her breasts, brushed a nipple with his thumb as he cupped her breast, feeling the drum of her heart in his palm. A familiar feeling of possessiveness washed over him and, with his lips, he washed away the touch of the men before him. And he felt glorious pride when he heard her moan his name. _

_She was his. _

_He moved over her and she arched under him, her body taut, when he took the pink pebble in his mouth. ''Niklaus,'' she moaned again and he looked up. Flushed and ripe under him, lips red from being kissed and bitten, soft blonde hair, she was glorious. He dropped kisses here and there, continuing to explore her body with his mouth. He kissed a hipbone, a thigh. She buried her fingers in his hair, and he had to close his eyes at the pleasure it brought him. Her hands caressed his neck, his shoulders. And he went back to the trail his mouth had made, travelling up. _

_He brought his lips to hers and they kissed deeply. He savored her touch. Her breasts pressed against him. Her hand on his cheek. His back. Caressing him. Her whole body under him. He felt her thighs opening, inviting him. He nestled between them, and kissed her mouth once more. _

_''Caroline.'' She ran her fingers in his hair once more and smiled at him, nodding. He braced himself and filled her, ever so slowly._

_She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. ''Caroline,'' he gasped, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck. He felt her, only her, warm and soft and tight around him. He tried to calm his heart but it would not listen – because it needed her entirely, completely. _

_Only her. _

_He lifted his head off her neck and dropped kisses on her eyelids._

_''Caroline, love,'' he repeated, his body tense. ''Look at me.'' Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him with heavy lids. Ethereal. And yet, she was in his arms. He knew now that he would never let her go – as long as she wanted him. He put his hands on each side of her face, his lips hovering over hers, and time stood still. _

_He loved her. _

_And he hoped that maybe one day..._

_But now – now – he had her. Almost. She was just one breath away. ''Kiss me, Nik,'' she asked, tenderly. And so he did. Slowly, languidly._

_They were one and the same._

_Finally, he broke the kiss and began to move inside her, at a leisurely pace. Took her hands in his, their fingers intertwining above her head. Never taking their eyes of each other, skin on skin, they felt the other. Like they never had before. _

_She raised her head to press a quick, clumsy kiss on his lips and let her head fall back on the pillow, arching against him, as his strokes grew in intensity. _

_He had to close his eyes again at the delicious tightness that surrounded him and he let himself experience everything. Felt her head against his shoulder. Her breath. ''Nik.'' Her lips. Her teeth, as she bit his shoulder – marking his skin like she had marked his heart. _

_''Nik. Nik. Nik,'' she was chanting in his ear. His strokes became more frantic, less controlled, and he stifled her moans with a kiss. He wanted to take her whole. _

_They began to soar higher and higher until they reached the invisible ceiling. He felt her convulse around him and the pleasure blinded him. Pure light. _

_Happiness._

_Spent, he left her warmth and collapsed next to her, gathering her in his arms. And, as they lay on her bed, her head on his chest, his eyes heavy with sleep, he kissed the top of her head._

_Pure contentment._

_To love and to be loved. _

_''I love you.'' The words were ripped out of him before he could think. He was not sure she had even heard him. Half hoped she had not heard him._

_But evidently she had, because her response soothed his wary heart._

_''I love you, too,'' she said sleepily, pressing a single kiss over his heart._

_To love and to be loved._


	5. Chapter 5

Author's notes:

An update! And it took me only two weeks. I'm so proud of myself! Ha!

I hope you will like this chapter. Please, don't hesitate to share your impressions (good or bad) or to ask me a question. I love reading your comments and interacting with you.

As usual, thank you for reading! For being here.

This is unbeta'd. (I fixed some mistakes in the previous chapters.)

Happy reading!

* * *

_She had been there for only a few days but she could say with absolute certainty that she loved England; it felt like home. Or maybe it was because she was finally reunited with Nik, after being apart from him for so long. _

_Three years. _

_Three years of missed firsts. Three years of phone calls and emails and short visits. Barely enough to soothe the constant ache she felt at his absence._

_Three years of missing him. _

_And then her parents had surprised her with plane tickets, their present to her for graduating high school. The most beautiful present they could ever give her. _

_A whole summer with Nik. _

_And then, she would go back to the States, to start college. Without him._

_But now – now – they were enjoying the summer day in Richmond upon Thames, sitting on the grass along the embankment, near the bridge. _

_Blue sky and singing birds. Barges and blue water. Houses, history and happy people._

_She watched as Nik tried to capture the beauty of the scenery on paper – the comforting shade of the trees, the limitless azure sky, and the sunlight that reflected on the water, like a trail of diamonds –, he looked focused and relaxed as he worked on his watercolor. _

_And a bit different too. She guessed she had changed a little bit too._

_It had been strange at first. To witness Nik's life – a life from which she was absent. He had a girlfriend now. Beautiful and sweet. And exotic. Perfect without even trying. _

_''Do you love Lara?'' she asked him suddenly. _

_''Why do you ask?'' he asked with a hint of a smile, adding touches of light to his painting. _

_''You're different when you're with her,'' she said, putting the book she had been reading in her lap._

_''How different?'' The smile was still on his lips as he turned toward her._

_''I don't know. Less serious. So, do you love her?'' she asked him again._

_She was just curious. Really. He had never talked about Lara – or any other girl, for that matter – when he knew everything about her first love. She had loved him like only a foolish heart could love, had given herself wholly, completely, and still, in the end, it had not been enough. _

_And it had hurt. So much. _

_But she was over it now. They were just not meant to be._

_''You're a hopeless romantic, Caroline,'' he said with a shake of his head. ''But I'm not.'' He looked up at her. ''Love is a remedy to loneliness. An illusion.''_

_She could not believe that. She could not believe that the pounding in her chest was an illusion. And she could not believe that he did not feel anything. _

_He cared about her, about Rebekah. _

_He cared. _

_As much as he denied it. _

_He cared._

_''But you love Rebekah.'' _

_''Bekah is my family, Caroline. It's not the same,'' he said, and she frowned. _

_''What about me then? I'm not your family –'' He did not let her finish. He gripped her hand tightly, his face a mixture of shock and indignation. ''Of course you are!'' He seemed offended that she could imply that there were no ties between them, and it was sweet in a way – to be reassured about her place in his life, and in his heart – even when he swore he did not have one. _

_''What about Lara then?'' She asked again._

_''Lara and I, we enjoy each other, that's different,'' he said without hesitation. _

_''How can you say that?'' _

_''We're not in love,'' he continued, with a shrug._

_''But why? She is perfect. How can you not be in love with her? And how can't she love you? You're – you.'' _

_''That I am,'' he replied, with an other smile. _

_''You know what I mean,'' she said, rolling her eyes. _

_He was perfect. That was what she meant. _

_He looked at her. ''Some people are not meant to love,'' he said very simply, and he returned to his watercolor._

_''I don't believe that. I refuse to believe that.'' _

_He smiled again. ''As I said, you're a hopeless romantic.'' She huffed at his words._

_''Laugh all you want Mikaelson. But one day – one day – you'll fall in love, and trust me when I say that I'll be there to tell you 'I told you so'.''_

_''Perhaps in a thousand years,'' he replied with a smirk. _

_Maybe some people were not meant to love._

_But that did not mean that they were not meant to be loved._

~o~

''Thank you,'' she said with a smile. She took the pastries and the coffee, and went out in the cold crisp morning. She walked, feeling the sun on her face. Closed her eyes and sighed.

Today was a beautiful day.

She walked down a few blocks until she was standing in front of the building where Klaus spent most of his time now. Away from all the unsaid. And could she blame him? When all she had done for the longest time was hide from her feelings, feelings she did not have a name for. Feelings that she had stored – _locked_ – in a secret part of her heart, and refused to acknowledge – dismissed every time they tried to break free until they had become an unspoken part of her. Hopes and dreams that were simply not meant to be. That could never be – that _would never_ be.

And she had accepted it. A long time ago. _So long ago. _

And then –

And then he gave her his heart and she did not know anymore. Could not think anymore.

He thought she did not love him when it was quite the opposite. It was just that she – she had not been ready. Still was not sure that he –

That he felt _that kind_ of love. For her.

But she would never know if she did not take a chance.

And so, she went through the revolving doors and into the elevator. The doors opened after a two minute ride and she walked to the front desk.

''Hello, Greta,'' she said to the young woman behind the desk, with a friendly smile.

''Caroline! What a pleasant surprise,'' Greta greeted her. ''We haven't seen you in a while.''

''I know. How are you?''

''Fine, thanks. Let me ring M. Mikaelson.'' Caroline nodded, feeling her heart thumping in her chest, almost painfully.

What was she doing here, really? Why was she even here?

She thought of all the those weeks of agonizing silence. Them drifting apart. Maybe it was already too late. Maybe he did not feel it anymore.

Maybe it had all been a quirk. The result of drunkenness and circumstances.

_Maybe – _

Greta's voice interrupted her thoughts. ''He's waiting for you.''

''Thank you, Greta.'' She offered her an other smile and walked through the corridor, past the double doors and stood in the heart of the Lockwood's campaign headquarters. A long field of open offices swarming with people and agitation; she walked past them, heading toward the main office. The only one with a door.

She lightly knocked, trying to balance the coffee and the box, and frowned when she heard laughter on the other side of door.

Feminine and light.

The door opened, revealing him, polished and cool, an easy smile on his lips. And she wished she could see him smiling more often. Wished that _she_ could make him smile like that.

''Caroline. I wasn't expecting you,'' he greeted her, still smiling. Only his smile seemed more guarded now that he was looking at her.

''I thought we could have coffee together,'' she said, hopeful. ''But – I see you're busy,'' she looked at the blonde woman who was sitting behind him. Beautiful and elegant.

Klaus turned toward the young woman. ''Caroline, this is Camille. She's been working with Marcel and I.''

_Camille._

''Camille, this is Caroline, a friend.'' She looked at him, stunned by his words, tried not to let show that they stung somehow.

_A friend._

_Undefined. A dot in his life. _

_Insignificant._

Her eyes fell back on the beautiful Camille. Graceful and relaxed. Looking like she belonged here.

''Hello,'' she said, feeling out of place as she stood awkwardly with her coffee and pastries.

Unneeded and unexpected.

''Hello Caroline,'' Camille replied amiably. There was something gentle in her eyes that reminded her of Bonnie. ''I have to go anyway.'' She smiled at her again, and stood up.

''We'll continue this later,'' Klaus said, and the blonde woman nodded.

''Alright.'' Camille took her bag from the floor. ''It was nice meeting you, Caroline,'' she said, offering her an other smile as she walked past her. ''Goodbye.''

''Goodbye.'' She watched as Camille closed the door behind her.

''Is everything alright?'' he asked her, taking the coffee and the box from her hands and putting them on his desk.

''Of course,'' she said as she went to sit by the window. ''Everything's fine.'' He nodded.

''Let's have this coffee, then,'' he said. ''I have to see Richard Lockwood in half an hour.'' She took the coffee he was handing her.

There was an other pause.

''What is the matter, Caroline?'' he asked her again.

''Nothing,'' she said with a forced smile.

_Nothing._

~o~

''I hope you have good news,'' Richard said as he confidently walked into his office, and sat behind his desk. Like a king on his throne.

_Bastard._

Good news.

A fatherless child. Probably unwanted by its mother.

_Yes, I have good news._

''The child is not yours if that's what you're referring to, and the girl had accepted the money,'' he said, facing the man he had once considered a mentor, handing the papers that the teenage girl had signed.

''Good,'' he looked at the papers but did not take them.

Problem solved. And yet –

''What if the child had been yours? What would you have done?'' he asked, curious.

''The child is not mine. No need to worry about it,'' Richard replied causally, unconcernedly – carelessly.

How could someone dismiss a child?

_How could a father – a mother – dismiss their own child?_

''She still could go to the press.''

''And it is your job to make sure that she doesn't. I don't want to lose my wife, and I certainly don't want to lose the Senate race.''

''You should have thought about this before you slept with a child,'' he replied.

She was _a child_.

''Don't test my patience, son,'' Richard smiled coldly.

''And don't test mine,'' he warned in return.

He had believed in Richard.

_Once._

Richard's smile grew bigger. ''I wish my son were more like you. Now, let's not get worked up over such silly things. Hayley was an irresponsible mistake, something that I deeply regret. It's time to move on.''

He had admired Richard. Thought of him as the father he wished he had. The father he had once. Only to realize that Richard Lockwood was no husband, and certainly no father. And as time went by, his disillusionment grew.

Richard's indiscretions with the teenage girl had been the proverbial nail in the coffin.

''Tonight is my son's birthday and we will officially announce his engagement to his highschool sweetheart. I expect to see you tonight.'' And, without saying another word, he left. Just like he had come.

Uninterested and uncaring.

Just like his father.

A man he did not know.

A man who did not want to know his son.

~o~

She passed her hands over her blue dress, unconsciously. She felt nervous, and she did not know why. She did not particularly care whether Carol was happy or not. Although she could say that the party was a success.

It was perfect. Of course, it was perfect.

_Hello! She was Caroline Forbes!_ And she did not do anything if not thoroughly. She was –

''Caroline.''

She turned around and came face to face with Matt Donovan.

''Matt.'' Of course, he would be here; Tyler was his best friend – although she never quite understood why – and Vicki was his sister. They were his only family.

She had thought he would be her family one day. Although she could say now that she had only been deluding herself.

She still did on so many things.

_Hey!_

He smiled his boyish smile and engulfed her in his arms. ''I'm sorry,'' he told her when he released her.

''I know. Me too.''

They never stood a chance as a couple but she was sure of something.

In spite of everything, Matt Donovan was her friend.

~o~

He arrived fashionably late, already bored, and looked at the people around him, all reunited to celebrate the life of Tyler Lockwood – the prodigal son.

_What a farce._

He made his way to the buffet, hoping he would find something that could make the whole thing bearable.

But he doubted he would find anything.

He did not need something. He needed someone.

He surveyed the swarm of people, drinking a flûte of champagne, looking for Caroline. He knew she was there; she had planned the whole event after all.

But he only saw faceless people. Irrelevant.

And then, he spotted her. Chatting with Matt, and his blood ran cold. He watched as she smiled at him, laughed with him, and he felt burning anger.

He should have known. He should have known that she would go back to him.

He was a fool for ever believing that she could return his feelings. For ever telling her what he felt, _how_ he felt.

Feelings.

He hated them. He hated that he loved her. Wished that he did not love her. Wished that he did not feel.

_Why do we feel?_

He turned to leave and stopped when he heard his name. ''Nik,'' she said again. He watched as she made her way toward him, light in a throng of black, voiceless entities.

''You came,'' she said with a delighted smile. She looked happy to see him and it alleviated some of the anger he felt.

_Breathtaking beauty._

Every time he looked at her, she took – _stole_ – his breath away. His sweet, beautiful Caroline.

She carried rays of light – sunshine – in her hair. Blue skies, and fire, in her eyes.

_She was celestial. _

And he was stranded on the ground.

Each time he looked at her, she seemed a little bit more out of reach. Unattainable.

Each time he looked at her, it was a little bit more painful.

And yet, he could not tear his eyes away from her.

The lines and curves of her body made his mouth dry. A longing to touch her took hold of him but he clung to his anger and remained silent.

''Are you enjoying the party?'' she asked him, and she gripped his arm before he could even utter a word. ''Come with me. I want to show you something.''

''I see that Matt is here. You must be happy to see him,'' he said as they made their way through the crowd. She must have heard the resentment in his voice because she looked at him questioningly.

''His sister is dating Tyler. And Matt is my friend.''

''Your friend?'' he repeated.

Her friend. They had shared so much – still did, probably. And he hated it.

He did not want her to be Matt's friend. He did not want her to be Matt's anything. He wanted her all for himself. He was selfish like that.

She was his. His Caroline. How could she be anything else?

''Yes, my friend. Why?'' she asked.

''No reason. You two seemed awfully cozy. I thought that maybe you were getting back together,'' he said, pursing his lips. He tried to make it sound as if he did not care.

As if it did not matter to him.

''Of course not,'' she said immediately. ''I'm not in love with Matt,'' she added, and her cheeks colored a little.

He looked at her again, on his arm, blushing and flustered. And just like that, his bad mood evaporated.

''What do you want to show me?'' he asked her, and she smiled. A true beautiful smile.

''You'll see,'' she said secretively.

They left the ballroom and walked through a long corridor. Finally, they arrived in front of a small window.

''Look,'' she said. ''Do you see it?'' she asked. It was hard to see anything with the light reflecting on the window pane. Still, he looked carefully.

The window overlooked a private park. He recognized it. They had played there as children.

Had met there, he remembered fondly.

Not his proudest moment he had to say. But the best.

''It's still there,'' he said.

The little swing.

And he turned to look at her, smiling. ''For what it's worth, I'm sorry,'' he told her, and she snorted.

They stood like that, smiling – never taking their eyes from each other.

''I miss you, Nik,'' she said, quite suddenly.

He was at a loss for words. What could he even say? That he missed her too? How do you say to the woman you love that you miss her even more when you _are _with her?

So he did not say anything. _He had said too much already._

''Nik, please say something.'' She had this look, both pleading and evasive. And it made him mad, because she was asking the very same thing that she could not, or would not, give him.

She needed him but did not want him. Or she wanted him just enough, but never enough, so that he was stuck in this tormenting place where he could only have her from afar. Which meant not having her at all.

She took his face in her hands and he could not take it anymore. Glances, smiles, gentle touches that left him raw. Endless torture.

He had to break free from her wounding touch, put some distance. He took her by the wrists, and gently but coldly pushed her away. A frown settled on her face and she looked at a loss for a second. However, she approached him again, ever so slowly, not at all deterred by his response. ''Nik,'' she said soothingly. She tried again to touch him but he shook her hand off. He hated when she looked at him like this. As if he were a temperamental child. The glare he sent her way made her stop in her tracks.

''What do you want me to say, Caroline?'' he asked her, in a clipped voice, and she visibly flinched. He was trying to contain his anger because, as much as he needed an outlet, he did not want to say something that would hurt her. ''What do you want from me?'' he went on. ''What, Caroline?'' But she said nothing and it frustrated him to the point that, when he asked her one last time, he was practically screaming, and she had to take a step back.

''You know what? Forget it. I can't talk to you when you're like this,'' she said, turning away from him.

''Don't turn your back on me, Caroline,'' he warned. But she continued to walk away from him, her hair bouncing on her shoulders as she took angry steps. Had he been in a better mood, he would have laughed. But he was not and it only fueled his anger. ''That's it, run away,'' he called after her. ''That's all you do.'' She stopped and turned round. ''How dare you,'' she all but screamed. ''How dare you, when you're the one who hides like a little boy,'' she said, her cheeks getting rosier from the sudden rush of blood.

He felt himself shaking at her words. _How dare she be mad at him when all he had ever done was for her! It had been all for her!_

''That's rich, coming from you, Caroline.''

''What does that mean?'' she asked, arms crossed against her chest, chin raised defiantly. He looked at her hard and took a step toward her. She did not move, only glared at him.

''You wanted it – you wanted _me_ –, as much as I wanted you, and let me tell you, Caroline, you were _glorious_ in my arms. So eager. So responsive.'' He said the last words in a whisper almost. Even now, as they fought, he wanted her. She flushed even more and she closed her eyes.

''Stop.''

''Why? I'm only saying the truth.'' When he took a step toward her, she did not move. He cradled her right cheek in his hand and she let him. ''I'm not the one who's hiding,'' he whispered against her lips. ''I'm not the one who pretends that nothing has happened,'' he said, before he captured her lips.

She was too stunned to respond at first, and he cursed himself for kissing her, for putting himself up for rejection _again_.

And then – and then –, she kissed him back. Sweet and passionate and hungry, all at once. His hand left her cheek and he took her by the hips to bring her closer to him. She was always too far away from him, and he could never get enough of her.

He was delighted when she linked her hands behind his neck and returned his kisses with added fervor. She was humming against him.

She was always so responsive in his arms.

He teared his mouth from hers. ''And I'm not the one who pretends that I don't love –''

''Stop, Nik,'' she asked timidly, pressing her forehead against his. ''Stop.''

He released her regretfully, more frustrated than before. If it were possible.

''Then stop playing this game,'' he said.

She stared at him wide-eyed, and took a step back. ''So, you think it's all a game to me? You think that I'm playing with you?'' she asked softly, looking torn.

''You tell me, Caroline,'' he answered, looking at her intently. ''What am supposed to think when you kiss me, when you tell me you want me, ask me to make love to you, and then ask me to forget all about it? Tell me, Caroline. What am I supposed to think?''

''That I –''

He stopped her. ''That you're what?'' he asked impatiently. ''What, Caroline?''

She was killing him.

''That I am scared!'' He frowned, not sure he understood what she meant.

''What are you so afraid of?'' he asked her, gently this time.

''You!'' she practically screamed. ''I'm afraid of you,'' she repeated more quietly. ''Because one day – one day – you'll realize that I'm just Caroline, and it won't be enough for you,'' she finished, looking embarrassed.

Ashamed.

He shook his head at her admission.

This was nonsense.

Complete nonsense.

She was perfectly imperfect. _Gloriously perfect in all her imperfection._

Genuine.

Beautiful.

How could she doubt her worth? How could she doubt his feelings for her?

How could she doubt _him_?

''You're all I have. I don't want to lose you, don't you understand that?'' she added, almost angrily.

And something light in his heart fluttered.

Hope.

He shook his head again and smiled.

''You won't lose me.'' How could she? When all he breathed was her? When all he wanted – all he needed – was her. ''Let me show you,'' he asked her, reaching for her hand.

_Please, Caroline._

~o~

She looked at his outstretched hand, and then at his face. Hopeful. Her heart was telling her – imploring her – to take his hand. To let him love her.

Like she loved him. Because she _did_ love him. So much. Like she never had before. And it was perhaps the thing that worked the most against him.

Because she had come to learn to never trust her heart.

And because he had the power to break her beyond repair.

The terror swallowed her whole, and her heart broke because she already knew the answer.

''I can't.''

He dropped his hand. And she saw something beautiful disappear from his face.

''I can't continue like this, Caroline,'' he sighed. ''I just can't.'' He looked defeated and tired.

''I know.'' She was going to lose him anyway. ''I know,'' she repeated painfully, her eyes brimming with tears.

_I know._

''I think we need some time – to figure things out,'' he said thickly, looking at something past her – looking at anything but her. ''I'll go to Stefan's –''

''No, I'll go,'' she said hurriedly.

It would not be fair for him to leave their house – his house really – when it was because of her that they were in this impasse.

''I'll go,'' she said again. ''I'll stay with Bonnie.'' He only nodded. Did not say anything.

What was there to say anyway? There was nothing left to say.

Nothing.

Except maybe _I love you_.

Three simple words that she had said so many times, to so many different people, on so many different occasions.

And here she was, unable to deliver them to the man she loved. The man who probably needed to hear them the most.

Three simple words left unsaid.

A sea of silence.

No – _an ocean_.

And she was drowning in it.

_I love you._

Such simple words.

And yet, the hardest, for a scared, tender heart.

_I love you._

I love you.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's notes:

Hello! :) Here is chapter 6, which is basically the second part of last chapter.

Thank you for being part of the adventure. I'm always excited and happy to see that you're reading, following, commenting. Thank you for the support, all of you!

I wish I could respond to the guest comments. It frustrates me that I can't. Cassie, NikMik, Harmony, Amanda, Marina, ilovetvd, Inga, all of you Guests: THANK YOU!

The reviews for chapter 5 were overwhelming. I could not believe it. Thank you. Thank you!

Many of you were/ are frustrated with Caroline. I understand, I really do but, please, don't lose faith in her (or in the story). I'll leave notes at the end of the chapter.

As usual, this is unbeta'd. So, please forgive any mistakes.

Happy (yes, happy!) reading! ;)

* * *

Rain. She could smell it in the air. Warm and heavy. And unwelcome. The leaves shook in anticipation, but she just sat there, numb.

Sat on the little swing, in the park.

They had begun here. Had spent sunny moments of happiness together. She wanted to remember them, wanted to be enveloped in their warmth. Wanted them to chase away the feeling of emptiness that was taking root in her heart. But the emptiness took hold of her, spreading in her veins until she was left shivering.

There was nothing left for her now.

The sky began to shake in anger and she looked up, just in time to see silent streaks of light in the dark. Of course.

Of course. At the worst possible time. And laughter bubbled in her throat.

The immensity of what had just happened crashed down on her and her shoulders shook with desperate laughter. It turned into sobs and, soon, her whole body was shaking with them. She bent at the sudden realization, crossing her arms around her waist. Pain and fear burnt her insides and, for a long awful moment, she wished she could escape her own body and fly away from it all. And yet, she did not want it to stop, because if it did, it would mean the end.

And she was not ready to face the world alone. Not without him.

_Without him._

She cried even harder. She wanted Nik, needed him. Only him.

But the elements did not care for her grief. No soothing touches and no comforting words. She only felt the rain falling down on her, only heard the angry whispers of the leaves, the sky scolding and growling and threatening.

She was alone.

Nothing lasted forever.

And she could not hide forever.

But she did not move. Only sat there, like a lost little girl.

~o~

He took a swig and looked at the blank canvas that lay by the wall. Bright and flawless. Pure and uncorrupted. No story. Nothing.

_Nothing._

He went to the table where lay a jumble of brushes, tubes of paint and various other things. Left untouched.

A forgotten sketchbook.

It seemed so long ago.

He took a can of red paint, opened it and threw it at the immaculate canvas. He used his bare hands, his arms, to distribute the paint, to wound it.

He drenched it in blood.

He stopped, took a step back and stared at the bloodied mess.

Everything was a mess. His head. His heart.

_His heart._

It burned. His skin burned. Everything burned. He took off his shirt and returned to the table to take tubes of paint. He used his hands and smeared the paint on the bloody canvas. Angry strokes of black, navy blue and white –

No light. Night. Only night.

A whirlwind of nothingness.

Light was fire and he wanted darkness. Anything to snuff the bloody fire that was consuming him. Anything. Everything.

Except her.

Everything but her. Never her.

His burning fire.

Black. More black.

Ashes of him.

He stopped, more exhausted than before, and closed his eyes. Let it engulf him.

The feeling of pure and infinite –

loneliness.

~o~

''Caroline,'' she heard someone say. She looked up and saw Carol Lockwood standing a few feet away from her, safe and dry under her umbrella. ''What are you doing here all alone?'' the woman asked, walking quickly towards her.

Her reprieve was over, it seemed.

She stood up and quickly brushed the tears away. ''I'm sorry, I needed some time alone. Is everything alright?''

''Of course. This evening is a success,'' Carol answered, shielding her from the rain. She looked down at her and handed her her clutch. ''Although it seems that the same could not be said for you. You look awful.''

_Geez, thanks! You could always count on Carol Lockwood to make you feel better._

They walked in silence until they were in the safety of the building. ''Caroline.''

She looked at the older woman, tried not to look annoyed. As much as she did not care for her job, it was all that she had left. Better not to lose it too. ''Yes?''

''I called you a taxi.''

She frowned. ''I don't understand. Why?''

The woman looked at her intently. ''You are needed elsewhere.''

_What was she talking about?_

When she saw the puzzled look on her face, Carol elaborated. ''I was looking for you and I heard you, with Klaus. I didn't mean to.'' She had the decency to look embarrassed. ''Caroline –''

''No. You misunderstood. Nik – I mean Klaus. Klaus and I, we're...'' her voice trailed off, as if she did not know anymore.

''In love,'' her boss finished for her. ''You two are in love.'' She took her hand. ''Caroline, listen to me carefully. Regrets are an ugly thing to live with. And you are way too young to begin now.''

_How could she know? _

Carol Lockwood's life was perfect. Everybody knew that. What could she possibly regret?

''How would you know? Your life is perfect.'' She did not mean to sound so snide. Really she did not.

_Well, maybe a little._

Carol chuckled. ''Oh Caroline. You are so naive.''

''But your career, your husband –''

''My career? A distraction. My husband? A man who looks at me but doesn't see me,'' Carol chuckled humorlessly. ''You want to wake up one day wondering where it all went wrong?''

''No,'' she said without looking at her.

''That's what I thought. You know what to do then.''

_Of course she did. But would he listen?_

She was pretty sure he would not.

Carol sensed her hesitation. ''Caroline, the people who break your heart are the ones who don't care. Trust me.''

It was so strange to have this conversation with her – of all people. It was the first time they talked. Really talked. She had never liked Carol, and she was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. And yet – the way the older woman was looking at her. The broken look on her face.

It meant something.

''I would trade the illusion of perfection for something real anytime, Caroline. Anything but these regrets.''

She had been wrong on so many things.

_Oh God._

''I need to go,'' she said, running down the stairs.

''Caroline. Your coat!''

''I don't have time!'' She paused and turned toward her boss. ''Thank you!''

''Go!'

~o~

He looked hard at the painting as he mixed the fiery colors. Unfinished.

Incomplete. Forever damaged without its light. Undone. Broken.

Missing something. The good part. The better part.

Went back. Added color – fire. Even if it hurt.

It was all about her in the end.

It all went back to her.

Everything.

Caroline.

Only.

Her.

His.

Only.

Caroline.

Everything.

It all went back to her.

It was all about her in the end.

It would always be about her. Always.

Always and forever Caroline. His muse. His curse.

He added light to the darkness. Fire. He could not help himself.

Let it burn. Consume him. Caroline. His torment. Always and forever – _her_.

~o~

She looked through the window and sighed, exasperated. Twenty minutes. Twenty painfully long minutes. Might as well be a year.

Or a century.

The rain had not stopped falling – if anything, it fell harder than ever. And here she was, stuck, when she was needed elsewhere – unexpected, certainly. She stared morosely as the rain drops made a watery trail on the window and sighed again. She was so close.

''Can't we go faster?'' she asked the driver, catching his gaze in the rearview mirror.

''No.''

She bit her lip. She had wasted too much time already. And she could not bear the thought of him, alone and unloved. Did not want him to go on thinking that he did not matter. Because he did.

She was just a coward.

And maybe it was time to be brave.

What could be worse than losing him forever?

_Nothing._

''Let me out,'' she said.

''In this weather?''

''Let me out,'' she repeated, her anxiety increasing tenfold.

''But it's raining.''

''Let me out!'' she exclaimed at the top of her lungs – hysterical. The driver jumped and turned toward her.

''Are you out of your damn mind? No need to throw a fit. Geez.'' The man shook his head. ''You have a plane to catch?'' She narrowed her eyes. ''Let me out,'' she repeated dangerously.

''Okay. Okay. Twenty-two dollars.'' She unbuckled the seat belt and opened her clutch to get the money. ''Why do I always fall on the crazy ones?'' she heard him say under his breath. ''I'm too old for this.''

She leaned and handed him two twenty-dollar bills and opened the door. ''And your change?'' the man called after her.

''You can keep it.'' She slammed the door and began to run.

Run. Run. Run.

Rain beat down on her, soaking her to the bone. But she ran, wet strands of hair clinging to her face and neck, dress hugging her to the point where she almost tripped with every step she took. But she did not let that stop her.

Nothing would stop her now.

Cars honked past her, and the dark sky mocked her – snarls, devilish grins of light that told her she was a fool.

Maybe she was. _So what?_

She ran, in spite of the warnings of the sky above her and the howling of the wind slapping her. The cold bit her skin and her lungs were on fire, but she continued to run.

She ran, in spite of everything. Grotesque faces and hollow cries. Childish fears. What was there to fear?

What was there to fear – other than herself?

_Nothing._

She ran. Laughed, beaming. Embraced the rain and the wind. Stuck her tongue out at the fiery sky.

She ran. Prayed that he was home. Made it to their driveway. Saw that there was light.

And fell flat on her face.

Got up and took off her shoes, and limped to their door.

She fumbled with her small clutch and she cried in frustration. Cold numb fingers that would just not cooperate. _Seriously?_

She finally managed to get her keys out and opened the door with a bang. Threw her shoes and clutch, not particularly caring where they landed. She quickly surveyed the living room and the kitchen. And ran up the stairs.

Stopped.

The studio. A room that had not been opened in years.

There was light.

She walked slowly and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him. His back to her. Working on a painting.

The first in almost four years.

If he knew she was there, he did not acknowledge it. She did not dare move or say anything, she just watched him. Shirtless, arms covered in paint. A mess. And she ached for it.

He worked in a frenzy. Bold brushstrokes of yellow, orange and red. Consuming fire which swallowed everything around it. Leaving charred nothingness.

He stopped suddenly, his shoulders tense. ''Caroline.'' He did not turn, just said her name. _Caroline. _Like a curse. _Caroline! Oh Caroline!_

_Caroline._

He put down the brush and palette on the wooden table and took a piece of cloth to wipe his hands. There was a half-empty bottle of scotch. A common occurrence lately. And she did not like it.

''You must wonder why I'm here.''

''Not particularly.'' He did not look at her as he wiped his hands with the dirty cloth. He looked worn out. Paint, like bruises and cuts all over his torso and face, arms and hands. A giant wound.

Her heart clenched achingly in her chest.

''I'm sorry.''

He chuckled darkly. ''Get your things and get out.''

''There is something I need to tell you first,'' she said as she came in the small room, penetrating his sanctuary. He finally looked at her.

A mask of unadulterated rage. Pure fury. Only for her. ''I frankly don't care. Get out.''

''No,'' she said defiantly.

''No?'' he repeated, in mock amusement. He smiled, staring at her, and tilted his head to the side. ''No?'' He took a few steps in her direction and stopped in front of her. He leaned forward. ''I don't want you here. Get out.''

''No,'' she said firmly, her heart beating furiously in her chest. She could smell the whisky on his breath and the paint on his skin. And she could taste his anger.

''Get out!'' he screamed in her face and she flinched. He would never hurt her, she knew that. But that did not mean that he did not terrify her. ''I need to tell you something first,'' she repeated, voice wavering. Her hands shook a little and she hid them behind her back. She was strong. And she would show him.

That she meant it.

That she did not doubt them. Not anymore.

''Then tell me. Tell me and leave.''

She tried to control her breathing, tried to will her hands to stop shaking. Tried to tell him. But he did not give her the time. ''Tell me,'' he said, pressing her against the wall, holding her by the upper arms. Her right hip hit the wooden table painfully, knocking over cans of paint; they dropped on the ground, splashing her feet with color, but she did not care.

''Tell me,'' he said, bringing his face closer to hers. ''Tell me, damn you,'' he said again, this time with desperation. There was a storm in his eyes – but she was not afraid anymore.

She wanted to touch him, soothe him but he held her too tightly. Still, she brought her hands to his chest. Felt his heart – strong and steady under her fingers. And maybe it was just what she needed. ''I love you,'' she told him. ''I love you,'' she said again, softly.

_I love you._

He did not say anything, as if he had not heard her. Maybe it was too little, too late. Maybe he had realized that he was better off without her. Or maybe he had come to the conclusion that they could not work. Fear that he would not believe her, or that he would dismiss her love for him – like she had done so many times – seized her heart and crushed it painfully.

_Poetic justice. _

Long agonizing seconds. Silence.

Maybe she had lost him after all. Maybe –

He kissed her hard.

There was nothing gentle in his kiss; it was rough and urgent. And she could not breathe. And she wanted him.

And she loved him.

''I love you,'' she said once more. And he kissed her harder.

His paint-stained hands were everywhere; they ruined her dress, kneaded her flesh, caressed her breast through the soaked, dirtied fabric, kissed her exposed skin. She felt hot under his touch as his hands drew patterns all over her body, using her like a canvas. ''I love you,'' she kept repeating, between his harsh kisses. She could not breathe, she could not move. And she welcomed it somehow. He was a wall of possessiveness, pressing her against him, making her part of him.

Or maybe she had always been part of him. Just as she sometimes thought that she would not be _Caroline_ without him.

''I hate it. I hate that I love you,'' he said against her skin. ''I wish that I did not love you. Anyone but you.'' His lips were on her mouth, her jaw. Impatient, hungry kisses. Everywhere on her face. ''You burn me. That's all you do.'' Her eyes filled with tears at his words. For all her fears and self-doubt, they were nothing compared to his.

''And yet I can't stay away from you.'' One hand on her collarbone, holding her against the wall, while the other cupped her breast through her dress – only his mouth moved. ''You consume me.''

And yet it felt like _he_ was consuming her.

Her senses were full of him. His touch on her skin. His taste in her mouth. His voice, his scent, his eyes. She did not know anymore. Where she ended and where he began.

But she did know one thing.

''I love you. I love you,'' she said again under his mouth. The tears fell, like rain. ''I love you,'' she could not stop saying. ''I'm sorry. I love you.'' She would tell him, show him until he understood. Until he believed her. If it was the only thing she did. The very last thing she did. ''I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you.''

''Stop,'' he said.

''I'm sorry,'' she sobbed, not listening. ''I'm sorry. I –'' He stopped her from saying more, stifling her words with another quick kiss.

''Stop,'' he said again.

_I'm sorry. _

Meaningless words in the end. Only they were not.

But it seemed that _they_ were – beyond repair. He did not believe her.

It was simply too late. She was too late.

And eventually, he would let her go.

Make her leave.

She did not know if she was crying for him or for herself but she was certain of one painful, terrifying thing. She would never heal from this. She would never be the same again.

Not without the best part of herself.

He loosened his hold on her. ''Caroline –'' he began to say, only she did not want to listen.

No. No. No. No.

_Please, no._

''No,'' she said, shaking her head. ''No,'' she repeated and shut her eyes as if, in the comfort of darkness, nothing could happen. Not if she did not see it. If she did not see it, then – it would not be real.

But it was.

The end.

''Caroline, open your eyes,'' he said again and she felt his hands on her arms. She was going to lose it. If he said her name again, she was going to lose it. His voice hurt, his touch hurt. They chased away the illusion of safety.

''No, no, no,'' she said desperately, keeping her eyes tightly shut. ''Please believe me,'' she begged. She did not care if she was pathetic. She did not care if she sounded or looked like a fool.

She was a fool. Had been for too long.

''Believe me. Please.''

She was suffocating, felt more and more faint. As much as she tried to cling to the surface, the waves of despair crashed on her, drowning her.

Maybe it was hopeless.

Maybe.

And yet – she could not let go.

_Open your eyes, Caroline._

_No!_

_But look at him. And see._

''Don't cry. Please don't cry,'' he said, sounding pained. His warm lips travelled to her cheeks, tasting her grief, and his touch became more gentle, cautious almost. ''I don't like it when you cry.'' And he pressed a kiss on each eye, kissing her tears away. ''My Caroline,'' he said before he released her.

_His Caroline. _

His words hit her hard in the heart and it unclenched suddenly.

She was still his Caroline.

A rush of air filled her lungs – she had been under water for so long – and it did not hurt anymore. Incredulous, she opened her eyes to look at him.

He looked bruised and battered. But he was smiling. Reassuring and comforting. ''I know.''

He believed her.

Worn out and yet, here he was, comforting her, consoling her. When she was the one who had let him down.

Always the one to heal her.

_Always._

He opened his arms and she smiled – laughed – through the tears. She threw herself at him with a shout. Held his face in her hands, peppering it with kisses, and he laughed.

A rare, genuine laugh.

She brought her lips to his, needed to feel him, taste him. Tell him. ''I want you. Only you.'' Always him. ''I need you. Only you.''

_I love you. Only you._

Always and forever – _him_.

~o~

''Mine,'' he said, putting his hands over hers, and she smiled and nodded.

''Show me,'' she murmured. And without saying an other word, she released his face and turned, presenting her back to him, head tilted to the side.

She wore rain on her skin and it cooled the burning fire in him. Her skin, her hair – everything was rain. Cool and comforting and loving.

He lowered the straps of her dress over her shoulders, pressing soft kisses on her shoulder blade, the side of her neck. Opened her dress and ran his hands on her back, leaving a faint trail of red on her skin. A living watercolor. The dress fell at her feet, leaving her almost bare.

He encircled her waist, chest pressed against her back, and she intertwined her fingers in his, rocked against him. ''I will never let you go,'' he warned, against her ear.

''I'm yours,'' she acknowledged. Something feral in him was pleased, and it needed to taste her again. He lightly bit her shoulder and soothed the skin with an open-mouthed kiss. Her skin was so soft and it marked so easily.

His precious Caroline.

Who had torn out his heart with such ease.

Caroline.

Who was in his arms now.

Every time he was with her – every time he was not with her – he was filled with the same need. Constant need.

Desperate. Craving.

''I need you, Nik,'' she said and he smiled. She _did_ feel what he felt.

_She felt it too. _

''I need you too.'' He kissed her hair, her shoulder.

She turned and faced him. ''Show me,'' she said again. And so, he did.

There was simplicity in their touch. And familiarity.

Smiles. Sunny and warm. Hands on his belt. A zipper opened. A clumsy dance. Snickers. His trousers flying. Her bra joining them. Softness under his hands. Moans and sighs. And kisses. Millions of them.

There was wonder too. And revelations.

He ran his hand between her breasts and she sighed. ''I remember that,'' she said, pressing her forehead on his chest. ''I remember your touch.''

This girl filled him with awe; she never failed to amaze him – when she did not drive him crazy.

To be in love with his best friend was terrifying.

To be in love with Caroline was exhausting.

But to be loved by her was –

It was like finding something long lost. Or maybe it was someone. Yes. Like being reunited with a long lost companion, someone you cherished but had to leave. In spite of yourself.

Her love – it reconciled him the world.

It was like – finding peace.

_Peace._

_Peace at last._

~o~

She gasped his name and fell back on the table, legs linked behind his back. He moved faster. ''Oh,'' she said again, arching tightly. She gripped the edge of the table with one hand. ''Nik.'' She was coming undone. Her arm hit a cup holding brushes and it fell on the floor with a crash.

''I know,'' he said, and he brushed her hair away from her face, held her tighter, wearing her like second skin. ''I know,'' he repeated as he grazed her tender lips with his fingertips; they travelled south, on her throat, retraced the lines of her collarbone, stopped over her chest.

He palmed her firm breast, soft and heavy in his paint-stained hand. Felt the melodic tempo of her beating heart. He looked at her face, beautiful and serene. Saw understanding in her cloudy, hooded eyes. ''Only for you,'' she said.

His only. Forever his. He would never let her go.

His lips on her nose, her lips – chapped from his kisses –, her collarbone. He held her closer, going deeper.

He watched as she tilted her head to the side. ''Oh.'' Her arm flew to the wall behind her and he gripped her hips tighter, leaving his imprint on her skin. ''Oh. Oh.'' Urgent movements. ''Nik.'' His hand left her hip, caressing her more intimately. A sob. Long, hard, experienced strokes that precipitated her over the edge and then –

And then – a descent. Long and sweet. His name on her lips. Blinding bliss. He had to hold on to her to stop from collapsing.

She lay limp, chest rising and falling under him, eyes closed. She turned her head and searched for his lips; nose brushing against his, she took his lips with hers.

He returned her kiss lazily and pressed his forehead against her neck. Bliss indeed.

.

.

.

.

.

She ran her fingers in his hair, while she held him with one arm, and he sighed. He did not attempt to detangle himself from her. They would have to move. Eventually.

But for now –

Peace.

~o~

''Your skin, it's so soft. I never realized,'' he said quietly, as they lay tangled in his bed, after their naughty shower. ''I didn't know,'' he continued, running the back of his hand up an down her arm.

She put her chin on his chest. ''You know what I did know?'' she asked him, serious.

''What?'' he asked, looking down at her.

''You've got one nice 'arse','' she said giggling.

He shook his head, seemingly disapproving. ''Caroline,'' he sighed.

_Oh Caroline._

She continued to smile, feeling the rush of tenderness. She straddled his hips and leaned to kiss him, cradling his cheek in her hand, like he had done with her so many times. When she moved, he cupped her breasts teasing the rosy pebbles with his thumbs, eliciting an other delicious feeling in her. ''So, what happens tomorrow?'' he asked, looking up at her. His hands left her breasts and moved to her hips, her thighs.

She understood that he had to ask. She had made so many mistakes, had hurt him so badly. And she would never forgive herself.

''I think I'll spend the day with my boy. He's an artist, did you know? And he draws the most beautiful things.''

_And sometimes the saddest too._

''Sounds like a catch,'' he snorted, caressing her thighs.

''He is,'' she replied tenderly, and leaned again to give him a kiss. ''He's the best. My boy.'' She went back to lie on her side, snuggling up to him. ''You do realize that I'm talking about you, right?''

_Call her crazy, neurotic. She did not care. She just needed to make sure that he knew._

''Yes,'' he chuckled. ''I figured.''

''Good,'' she said seriously. ''I never want to be without you,'' she added.

''I know.'' He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. ''Me neither.''

They lay in complete silence – except for the sound of the falling rain. She was on the verge of falling asleep but still clung to consciousness.

''It's still raining,'' she said, yawning.

_How could she ever be afraid?_

''I'm proud of you,'' he said after a few seconds.

''For what?'' she asked.

''For defying thunder. I know how scary it is for you.''

''There are scarier things.''

''Like what?''

''Like being away from you. Losing you. And you were right.''

''About?''

''I'm not a child anymore,'' she said with a smile, looking up. ''But it doesn't mean that I won't sleep in your bed from time to time,'' she teased. ''If you don't mind, of course.''

''On the contrary, sweetheart. I'm counting on it.'' She laughed.

_Good._

She pressed her cheek on his chest, her arm around his waist. ''Nik?''

''Yes?''

''I love you.''

~o~

''I love you.''

He closed his eyes and let the gentleness of her words wash over him.

''I love you,'' she said again to his heart and it soared once more.

_I love you._

Such careless words.

And yet, the softest, for a tired, wounded heart.

_I love you._

I love you.

* * *

Special note:

Yes! Finally! If you made it this far, congratulations! ;) I hope things made sense. Please share your thoughts.

We're moving to the second part of the story now, which will be lighter. Yay! :D

Until next time!


End file.
